


Right Where You Left Me

by CatsBalletHarveySpecter



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Background Joyce Byers, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, F/M, High School Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper, Highschool AU, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jopper, Love Triangles, Missing Years, Past Jopper, Pre-Canon, Pre-Season 1, Prom, Protective Jim "Chief" Hopper, Soulmates, Teenage Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper, Young Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper, highschool jopper, its all based on a taylor swift song, the story that starts with highschool Jopper and ends up in season 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29048979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatsBalletHarveySpecter/pseuds/CatsBalletHarveySpecter
Summary: AU - Joyce and Hopper have been friends forever. Everything begins to change when he starts dating Chrissy but can't sort out how he feels about Joyce. Begins with highschool Jopper and explores the relationship through when Hopper leaves Hawkins and Joyce marries Lonnie, their relationships crumble & the pair reunite to rescue Will from the Upside Down. Each chapter is based on a Taylor Swift Song.
Relationships: Jim "Chief" Hopper/Original Female Character(s), Jonathan Byers & Jim "Chief" Hopper, Joyce Byers & Jim "Chief" Hopper, Joyce Byers & Will Byers, Joyce Byers/Bob Newby, Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper, Joyce Byers/Lonnie Byers, Joyce Byers/Lonnie Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper
Comments: 30
Kudos: 33





	1. Willow

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello!! This lovely story idea is the brainchild of two wonderful ladies, Sam (@joycelhopper) and Lindsay (@stevexjopper), who were kind enough to let me try and put their idea into words. They've come up with an incredibly heartbreaking and detailed outline and I'm going to do my best to try and update the story regularly. I love and appreciate all feedback!
> 
> This story is dedicated to the kindest ladies in the ST fandom who have been nothing but kind and welcoming to me. (I'm so excited to be here!)

**Chapter 1- Willow**

_ Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark _

_ Show me the places where the others gave you scars _

Leaning back in his chair, Hopper stretches his arms up over his head and peers to the far side of the classroom. Two rows behind him, on the left, one of his best friends, Joyce Horowitz, was scribbling down a note furiously, her brow furrowed as she focused on what their science teacher was explaining up at the blackboard. 

He extends his left arm and hurls a wad of paper in her direction, smirking when it hits her in the side of the head and forces her to look at him. She brushes the note to the side of her desk and shakes her head, choosing to ignore him rather than give in to the childish game he loved to play in this class. 

As expected, Hopper balls up another wad of paper and tosses it at Joyce; this time it hits her on the cheek before falling onto her notebook. Reluctantly, she looks over at him and cocks her head while she mouths, “cut it out.”

Hopper holds his hand to his ear and mouths back, “what was that?” Adding fuel to the fire, he lobs a third piece of paper at her. 

“I said cut it out!” she exclaims far louder than intended. The rest of the class turns to stare and Mr. Benson stops speaking, folds his arms over his chest and marches over to her. 

“Something you wanted to share with the class?” he asks. 

“No sir,” she whispers, gaze locked on the notebook in front of her. 

“Very well. Mr. Hopper, please leave Ms. Horowitz alone. Save your antics for when you’re outside my classroom.” 

“Yes sir,” Hopper replies. 

They sit through the rest of the class and listen to the biology lesson, but as soon as the class is dismissed Joyce runs up to Hopper and scolds him with a swift smack on the forearm. 

“Why do you have to cause problems? Mr. Benson is going to think I don’t take his class seriously.”

She waits as he gathers up his books and trails behind him as they begin to make their way down the hall. 

“Oh c’mon Joycie, you know I’m just teasing you. Loosen up, have a little fun,” he smirks down at her. 

“I have plenty of fun,” she protests. 

They walk down the hall side by side and Hopper tells Joyce his after school practice is cancelled and that he can drive her home. He’d been driving her home ever since he received his license and his parents gifted him a car, but football season often meant he had to stay late and Joyce had to either walk home or take the bus. 

Hopper waves to a few people as they continue down the hall, and fistbumps a tall dark-haired senior that brushes past them. She’s telling him about the latest book she’s devoured and while she knows he’s listening to every word, she can’t help but notice that he has the attention of several of their peers and he could just as easily brush her off to greet them. 

She and Hopper had been friends since they were kids. Having met on one of the first days of school, they formed a quick bond that had yet to be severed. Joyce didn't get along very well with many other girls and had a difficult time making friends due to her introverted nature, but something about Hopper drew on her extroverted instincts and she found herself comfortable and open with him. 

Sometimes, she envied the way everything came so naturally for Hopper. He got decent grades without studying, was a member of the Hawkins High football team and constantly had a slew of girls desperate for his attention. In addition to that, he seemed to know just about  _ everyone.  _ While Joyce could count the number of friends she had on a single hand, Hopper was always saying hello to strangers and other students she’d never seen before, and she was sometimes left wondering if he knew them or if he was just being polite. 

There are times when his popularity feels overwhelming to her. Moments at parties where he runs off to greet someone new and she’s left feeling insecure about not knowing many others, or moments like this when despite knowing he cares about what she’s telling him, she can’t help but notice others noticing him. 

She always wondered how their classmates perceived their friendship. She wasn’t exactly the most popular member of the junior class while Hopper practically ruled the school and she knew that seeing them together must be odd. Sometimes she wondered if Hopper felt obligated to remain her friend, but that fear went away the moment she caught his eye while she spoke and she can tell he cares about what she has to say. 

They reach the cafeteria and part ways, Hopper, to join some of his teammates, Joyce to a few of her friends from her photography club. 

“See you after school?” he smiles. 

“Don’t keep me waiting,” she smirks back. 

He sits down with a group of boys at a table along the far wall and is immediately pulled into a conversation with the two students next to him while he unwraps his lunch. Joyce makes her way across the room and settles at her usual table, where Josie and Eli are already seated and eating. Each of them looks up and greets her with a smile, and Joyce plops herself down and pulls out a book and her lunch. She begins reading while she eats her peanut butter sandwich, enjoying the silence amongst her group. One of the things she liked most about this group was that there was no pressure to socialize. Sometimes they would spend the lunch hour having heated debates, sometimes they talked about their classes or latest projects, and some days, like today, they all sat in silence, immersed in their own little universes. 

In Joyce’s case, that universe was contained within a 256-page paperback. Turning the page, she glances across the room and catches Hopper’s eye. He smiles at her and nods before returning to the rowdy group of boys bustling around the table. 

**.**

**.**

  
  


“Has anyone ever told you that you’re insanely short,” Hopper smirks as he approaches his car. Joyce is leaning against the passenger side door, leather-clad arms folded over her chest. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re insanely tall?” she fires back. 

“At least once a day,” he remarks with a shit-eating grin. 

“Are you going to unlock the car or are we just going to stand out here and chit-chat?”

“You hate my company so much,  _ huh? _ ” he grins as he teases her and rounds the car. Once he opens the driver's side door, he lunges across the cabin of the car and flips the lock open on her door. Joyce tosses her book bag onto the floor and climbs in, fastening her seatbelt at the same time as she pulls the door shut. 

“You really should just fix the locks,” she complains. 

“Do you have a spare few hundred dollars lying around?” 

“You don’t know that I don’t.”

“Yes I do,” he remarks. He puts the keys in the ignition and they listen as the car roars to life. “You’re forgetting I know everything about you, _Joycie_.”

And he did. He knew just about everything there was to know about her. 

“I hate that nickname,” she reminds him. 

“That’s why I use it.” 

“How would you like it if I started calling you Jimmy?” she teases, rolling down her window and allowing her armrest in the vacancy as he backs out of the parking lot. 

“You’d sound like my mom. Please don’t.” 

“Hmmm, I don’t know, it has kind of a nice ring to it.” 

“Do you have any plans later?” he asks, changing the subject. 

“Just some homework, why?”

“Are we still on for tonight?”

“Only if I can call you Jimmy,” she beams. Joyce loved teasing Hopper. He did this thing where he scrunched his eyebrows and his cheeks turned a bright pink shade that made doing it all the more fun, and so she often pushed until he got flustered. She wasn’t single-handedly to blame for the teasing that occurred in their friendship, Hopper enjoyed pushing her buttons right back and as a result, most of their conversations began as quick-witted jabs and teasing remarks. 

“You’re not going to drop that anytime soon, are you?” 

“Absolutely not. You’re cute when you’re bothered.” 

“I’m not  _ cute _ , Joyce.” His cheeks darken and he does his best to stay focused on the road signs ahead. 

She knew he hated being called cute so she called him cute often. 

“Right, sorry. You’re very manly.” Her response is mocking and said with a chuckle but it seems to relax him all the same and she shakes her head. “Speaking of manly things, why was practice cancelled today?”

“The coach is out. Something about his son being sick. We’ll be back tomorrow.” 

“So what are your plans for the evening? You can come over to study if you want?”

“Can’t. I told Benny we could work out at his place before grabbing something to eat. Want me to bring you anything?”

“I’m alright. We’re supposed to be having pasta.”

Hopper grimaces but does his best not to outwardly show his reaction. He can’t remember the last time Joyce’s mom actually provided dinner for her daughter. The few times he’d stayed for supper, he and Joyce were the ones to prepare the meal from the limited supplies in the pantry. It wasn’t that her mother couldn’t cook, she was just hardly ever home. Joyce’s father, a  _ character  _ if Jim had ever seen one, tended to take out his anger in unconventional ways and as a result, Joyce’s mother often offered to work extra hours, leaving Joyce to fend for herself. 

“You sure? I could grab a burger.”

“It’s fine Hop.” She places her palm on his wrist and gives it a gentle squeeze, something she’d done since they were kids when she was trying to reassure him that she really was alright. 

They reach her house and Hopper pulls the car into the driveway before she unbuckles and reaches for her bag. 

“Thanks for the ride, see you later?”

“See you later.”

He waits until she’s inside before backing out of the driveway and heading to Bennys. 

.

.

  
  


“28… 29… 30.”

It’s a chant he does over and over again in his head as he pumps his arms up and down, hosting his body weight from the cool hard pavement lining Benny’s garage. The two boys were nearing the end of their workout but Hopper refused to slow down. He needed to be in his prime for the upcoming home game if he wanted to impress the coach and be made the quarterback in his senior year. 

After wrapping up with the weights and rinsing off, Hopper and Benny head to the local diner, a favourite hangout among their friends and meet up with a few more teammates for burgers. 

“Hey, Hopper, who are you taking to prom?” The question is directed at him from across the table by one of the junior linebackers named Mitchell and it catches him off guard. 

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he shrugs. He bites into his burger and continues to speak with his mouth full, “someone  _ hot _ .”

The group erupts in a chorus of hollers and begins talking about one of the seniors who’d recently been caught with a student from a rival school beneath the school bleachers. Not one for dramatic gossip, Hopper finishes his burger and flags down the waitress to place an order to go. Once the takeout container is ready, he stands and slips into his letterman jacket. 

“Where are you going so early, you got a hot date or something?” one of the boys calls at Hopper. 

“Sorry guys, I’ve got plans,” he says. He grabs the food and slips his keys from his pocket, weaving through the crowded diner towards the exit. He can hear his teammates calling out after him, vague things about using protection on his “date” but he tunes them out. He balances the food on the roof of his car while he fumbles to unlock it, the dimly lit parking lot only covered by the faint neon lights lining the diner window after sunset. He knows he may be early, but there’s only so much team bonding he can handle and tonight, all he wants to do is unwind with his best friend. 

As he approaches Joyce’s house he knows that he’s early. The porch light is still on, illuminating the driveway so he lingers near the cul de sac across the way and wishes he ordered himself a shake while he waited. 

They had this routine, he and Joyce. Her parents insisted on Joyce having an early curfew, so he’d begun coming by after her father turned off the porch lights, indicating that he’d gone to bed. Hopper would usually wait a few minutes before pulling into the driveway and flashing the headlights. Joyce’s bedroom was the only one at the front of the house, therefore she was the only one who would see Hopper’s headlights. 

Once she knew he was parked outside, she would pop the screen off her window and shimmy out onto the roof over the porch, where she climbed down the trellis at the side of the house and down to his car. 

They’d been safely sneaking Joyce in and out for months, but each time they did it part of Hopper panicked that her dad would catch them and he’s certain the metallic taste that takes over his tongue will never go away as long as she was sneaking out of her father’s home. She always insisted that things would be fine and they wouldn’t be caught, but his pulse raced every single time they did this. 

Tonight, he waits five minutes after the porch light is switched off before he pulls into the vacant driveway and flashes his headlights. While waiting for Joyce, he drums his fingers on the steering wheel and hums to himself. When she finally appears in the window, she’s wearing an oversized hoodie and a pair of baggy pants, her hair swept into a messy ponytail, situated on the top of her head. He watches with bated breath as she maneuvers down the side of the house and reaches over to unlock her door before she gets to the car. 

“Where to?” she asks.

“Let’s go to the lake.”

“How was dinner?” he asks as they back out of her driveway. 

“She ended up staying at work late.”

“Joyce.”

“It’s fine Hop, I made some scrambled eggs for us.” He knows the “us” she’s referring to is her and her father and he cringes at her grouping them together in the same term. 

“Reach behind you,” he instructs. “I got you something.”

She does as she’s told and reaches around the seat, where her hand finds a white doggy bag. She grabs it and places it in her lap while turning to give him a look. 

“Before you yell at me, it’s your favourite.”

Joyce debates lecturing him on how she can handle things on her own and doesn’t need his help, but the smell wafting out of the bag demands her attention and she resigns and decides it’s best to say thank you and enjoy the food. 

“With the extra sauce?” she asks slowly. 

“Exactly how you like it,” he nods. 

She reaches into the bag and pulls out a foil-wrapped burger that she immediately begins to unwrap and snack on. She didn’t need Hopper to look out for her, but who was she to say no to one of her favourite snacks on a late-night drive? She would yell at him for trying to be a hero, tomorrow. 

**.**

**.**

  
  


When they arrive at the lake, Hopper pulls into his usual spot on the lawn just in front of where the shallow water meets the shore. He cuts the engine and flips the headlights on, allowing the fog to dance among the white shadows that lead a dim path to the lake. 

It’s a clear evening, but the warm mist rising off the lake creates a haze that makes the area feel like it’s secluded from the rest of the town. Hopper reaches into the back seat and fishes out a blanket that he lays down in front of the car and motions for Joyce to join him. She does, sitting opposite him on the small plaid square with her legs crossed, the dewy droplets from the fog illuminating her face in a way he would describe as  _ perfect  _ in the headlights. He wasn’t blind to the fact that his best friend was beautiful, but he wasn’t vocal about it either. 

“It’s so peaceful here.” It’s an observation she makes every time they come out to the lake, but her relaxed facial features and dropped shoulders are one of the reasons he so often selected the lake as their late night drive destination. It was rare to see Joyce so relaxed and he would do just about anything to allow her to be in a comfortable state of mind like this all the time. 

“How was your workout with Benny?” she asks.

“Good. Not at good as a real practice would have been but I think it did the trick. How was homework?”

“Oh you know, an English essay can only be  _ so _ thrilling.”

“You love writing essays,” he reminds her. “You used to help me with mine, remember.”

“I remember,” she smiles softly. She goes quiet for a moment, lost in a memory; a large oak desk and pre-teen Hopper anxiously chewing on the end of his pencil while she worked on outlining his history essay. They were in his family office after school. It was one of the first times she’d been invited over to his house, as they usually hung out outside. She remembers thinking their friendship wouldn’t last. Hopper had recently taken a huge interest in sports, hence her helping with his essay, and he was bound to outgrow their friendship in the coming years. 

He never did, and now here they were years later, sprawled out on a picnic blanket beside Lovers Lake, still best friends. 

Joyce watches as Hopper shifts himself closer to her and mirrors her stance by folding one leg beneath the other. The light from the vehicle reflects in his eyes and for a brief moment, she’s lost in a sea of blue and emerald. She knew he was attractive. Hell, there was a reason half the senior girls were after him. But in small moments like this, she found it was easy to forget that she told herself her childhood crush on Hopper was long gone. She would never tell him this, but in the quietest of moments, while he sat and listened to her speak, she found herself drawn to him in a magnetic sense that made her question her own feelings. 

Tonight, she swallows that thought and forces herself to focus on the moon's reflection across the still water. 

She couldn’t have feelings for her best friend. It would complicate and ruin everything. 

“Hand,” he demands. His voice grounds Joyce and she forgets about her wild train of thoughts and focuses on the boy in front of her. 

She extends her palm to him and angles her body so that her torso is perpendicular to his. 

He hooks his thumb, much rougher from the years of helping his father cut wood, around hers and joins their hands. This was a “game” they’d been playing together for years and Joyce was no stranger to how it worked. It was another die-hard habit they’d picked up as kids. When one of them had had a long day, they would sit down in the grass on Hopper’s lawn and link their thumbs, fiddling them back and forth like a relaxed thumb restless match while they asked each other questions designed to distract them from the real world. 

“Current favourite song?” she asks.

“Lame, you know the answer.”

He moves his thumb to the left of hers, then back to the right. 

“It changes every five seconds!”

“Fine, it’s Back in the USA.” 

“I knew it,” she boasts.

“Favourite sentence from your essay?” he asks.

“Ou,” she takes a moment to think it over. “Alright, I’ve got it. ‘Though men may have a predetermined fate, we can not, by any means, move through life as if our actions are so predetermined that they do not matter’.” 

“You wrote that?”

“I did,” she says proudly. “I liked the essay topic.”

“What would you want your last meal to be?”

“A nice steak,” he nods. 

“Tell me your biggest fear,” he says softly, thumb narrowly avoiding hers as they continue the pointless thumb wrestling match between them.

“That’s a loaded question. I asked you what you would want your last meal to be, those two things aren’t even on the same playing field.” 

“You could’ve asked something harder.”

“Being alone,” she admits quietly.

He locks eyes with her and instead of moving his thumb in the usual to and fro pattern, he hooks it around her hand and presses down. 

“Joyce.”

A silent conversation passes. She’ll always have him. He’s told her thousands of times. She believes him, for the most part. Though, her deepest fear is that after school he’ll move on to a bigger and better life and she’ll be left on her own to fight against the scariest thing she knew, life. 

“I know,” she smiles. 

Hopper was the only person she let herself be vulnerable like this with. At school, she came off as tough and uncaring. She liked it that way. She liked that she wasn’t perceived as someone who needed  _ anyone _ . 

Hopper releases her hand and lays back on the blanket to look up at the sky. It’s cloud-filled and unclear, but something about the darkness calms him. 

“The guys asked who I’m planning on taking to prom,” he tells her. 

“And? What did you tell them?” 

“That I wasn’t going.”

“Yeah.  _ Right, _ ” she smirks and rolls over to face him. “Jim Hopper, one of the most popular kids in school isn’t going to prom. I think the world would end.”

“You’re so dramatic,” he groans, pulling himself up so that he’s seated with his back to the lake. He wraps an arm around his knees and drops his head in her direction. “Besides, I didn’t really tell them that, I told them I was taking you.”

A smirk breaks out across his face at her initial panic but she recovers quickly and begins to laugh. “Get out of here, you know I wouldn’t be caught dead at prom.”

“Not even with me?”

There’s a serious undertone in his voice that makes her wonder if he’s still joking around, but she quickly forces herself to dismiss the thought and smiles at him. “Not even with you, Jim Hopper.”

“What if I asked you in some ridiculous way? You’d have to agree to go with me.”

“I wouldn’t go to prom if you paid me,” she reassures him. 

“You’re telling me that if I did something crazy, say,” he scampers to his feet and steps towards the parked car, “climbed up on the hood of the car…” He’s standing on the hood of his car now, arms outstretched while she watches with an amused expression. 

“And yelled, ‘Joyce, will you go to prom with me?’ that you’d turn me down.”

“I’d turn you down before you even had a chance to hop up on the car. Now get down before you hurt yourself and your coach wants to kill me.” 

She reaches up and takes his hand while he effortlessly jumps down and rejoins her on the blanket. 

“You’re a heartbreaker, you know that Horowitz?”

“And you’re insane.” 

“You should come to prom,” he says. 

“Why? It’s not like I’ll know anyone there besides you and I’m sure you’ll have your hands full with your date.”

“It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“I don’t think so Hop, maybe next year.”

“At least think about coming? For me? It’ll be so much more fun with you there.”

“I’ll think about it, but I’m not making any promises.”

Eventually, the cold begins to seep through Joyce’s jacket and Hopper offers to drive her home. She watches as he packs up the blanket, rolling it together and tossing it into the back seat of his car, and she thinks about what he said about prom. 

She hadn’t any interest in going. It wasn’t like she had many friends and the few she did have wouldn’t be caught dead at a school dance. Even though she knows he was joking, she finds herself wondering what it would be like to go with Hopper. People would stare, probably whisper and she’s sure she would hate it. What she wouldn’t hate, she dares to let herself think, is being in his arms while they shared a dance. She’s quick to rain-in and dismiss the thought, but it still popped into her mind and a vision of them, wearing ridiculous outfits while they danced to a jazz band version of a trashy song, doesn’t displease her. 

She shivers, the overwhelming sensation that normal people didn’t daydream about their best friend rippling through her tiny body. 

“Cold?” he asks, noticing her quivering next to the passenger side door. 

“Yeah,” she replies automatically. Cursing at herself for getting carried away with an unrealistic, absurd fantasy, she climbs into the car and folds her arms across her chest. 

As Hopper begins to drive back to her place, she finds herself fascinated by the way the moonlight paints him in a faint shade of yellow. He catches her staring and smiles. “What?”

“Huh?” she replies, tearing her gaze away as quickly as possible. 

“You’re staring.”

“Oh nothing,” she sighs, “just tired.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to drive around some more?”

“I never said that.”

They drive around for another hour, talking about everything and nothing. On a particular stretch of abandoned road that lies between the edge of the town and the woods, Hopper even lets Joyce drive his car. He’d taught her to drive years prior, but she hated to when other cars were on the road and so she reserved practice for late nights like this, with Hopper in the passenger seat and the moon being the only other light aside from the headlights. 

When Joyce begins to yawn, Hopper drives her home. She lingers in the warm cabin of the car, laughing at a story he’s telling about Benny. Her hand falls to his arm as she laughs, and rests there until the cold evening air crashes through the open car door and she announces that she should get going. 

She waves from the porch before climbing the trellis and back towards the window she escaped from hours prior. 

Hopper smiles to himself, watching as she moves silently against the night sky and waits until she’s safe inside before he begins his own journey back home. 

_ I'm begging for you to take my hand _

_ Wreck my plans _


	2. Forever and Always

**Chapter 2 - Forever and Always**

  
  


_ Were you just kidding? _

_ 'Cause it seems to me, this thing is breaking down _

_ We almost never speak _

_ I don't feel welcome anymore _

  
  


Hopper slips two cigarettes out of the package in his pocket and wordlessly passes one to Joyce. She accepts and leans towards him so he can light it with the lighter he has pressed in the palm of his hand. On her first inhale, she coughs and sputters which causes him to laugh. 

“What the hell Hop, these are terrible.”

“I like them,” he grins, taking a long, coughless, drag of his own cigarette. 

The two of them were sitting on a bench in the park near Joyce’s house and had been sharing random stories about their respective days over cigarettes. Joyce used up the final cigarette in her pack as soon as they arrived, and was now stuck complaining about having to smoke Hopper’s cigarettes. 

“You’re going to destroy your lungs,” she lectures. Leaning back against the wooden park bench, she pulls the zipper higher on her leather jacket and crosses one jean-clad leg over the other. 

“I think we’re both doing that.”

“Keep smoking those and you’ll get there a lot faster than I will.” Joyce takes another drag, scrunching her facial features as she braces herself for the sharp inhale, but she’s surprised to find it less harsh this time. 

“You’ll never guess who was waiting near my locker after third period,” Hopper beams. 

“Oh?” she remarks, she stares over at him and places the cigarette between her lips. 

“Aren’t you going to guess?”

“You  _ just _ said that I’d never guess. Aren’t  _ you _ going to tell me?”

“You know that senior on the cheerleading squad? Tall, blonde…”

“Brainless,” Joyce finishes for him with a wide smirk. 

“She’s not brainless. Her name is Chrissy.”

“And why was  _ Chrissy _ waiting for you?” She doesn’t even attempt to hide the disinterest in her voice, instead she plays into it and uses it to make her remark sound sarcastic. 

“She wanted to compliment me on the game the other night.” 

“And she couldn’t do that after the actual game?” 

Her comment bites, and it takes his visible excitement down a notch. 

“What do you care what she thinks anyway?” Joyce shrugs. 

“She’s a  _ senior.  _ A senior who’s a  _ hot _ cheerleader. Of course, I care what she thinks.”

She notices he’s sitting tall with his chest puffed out slightly more than usual and she realizes he’s trying to brag about Chrissy flirting with him. She isn’t sure what type of reaction he’s hoping for from her, but she does her best to be supportive and dryly states that she’s happy to “see him making friends” before asking if he can walk her home so she can get started on her homework. 

It isn’t jealousy, she tells herself. She didn’t care if Chrissy flirted with Hopper. He was single and free to be excited by any girl that flirted with him. The only reason the mention of Chrissy irritated her was because she hated cheerleaders. 

Nothing to do with Hopper.  _ At all.  _

He walks her to the end of her street, where she insists that she’s fine the rest of the way. He tells her he’ll meet her at the library for their study session on Sunday and waves goodbye as she begins down the path to her house. 

Part of her wishes she’d chosen to hang out with Hopper longer, but she felt she had to ask him to walk her home before she was forced to explain her  _ non-existent  _ jealousy over Chrissy. Since she didn’t really have homework to do and she had no plans, despite it being a Friday night, she decides she’ll spend the evening lost in the fictional realm of her latest novel. This way, she could avoid her father when he inevitably came home drunk and looking for a reason to yell at her. 

**.**

**.**

  
  


Late Sunday afternoon, Joyce finds herself sprawled out at one of the tables in the far corner of the Hawkins Public Library. Sitting beneath the window, she scribbles down notes on a legal pad while basking in the early evening glow that was illuminating the table and providing the illusion of warmth.

With her hair pinned back and the glasses she hardly ever wears sitting on the bridge of her nose, she knows she looks completely different from how she does when she walks the halls of Hawkins High. At school, she liked to maintain her rebel attitude, but here within the stacks of books where she’s supposed to be meeting Hopper, she feels like a different person. She embodies a version of herself that adores reading, that would never cut class (though she actually cut class often) and that wouldn’t be caught dead walking around with the usual version of herself. 

She liked that she got to play both parts. The girl who no one dared to mess with because they deemed her unpredictable, and the girl who enjoyed spending her Sunday afternoon reading in the library. 

Hopper was supposed to meet her after his morning practice, and based on the way the sun drips behind the afternoon clouds, she begins to wonder if maybe practice ran late or he got a flat tire on his way to meet her. With no way to call him, she continues working while she waits, coming up with various jokes about his tardiness to use when he eventually arrives. 

She realizes he probably isn’t coming when the sun begins to fade and she needs to turn on the desk lamp to continue working. She should pack up and head home for dinner, but it wasn’t like Hopper to forget about their plans, so she decides to wait a while longer in case something happened and he’s just running (really) late. 

The librarian approaches her while she has her nose buried in her book and taps on her shoulder to let her know they’ll be closing shortly. With a heavy sigh, she packs up her book bag and walks back home. It wasn’t like Hopper to not show up or find a way to tell her he had to cancel, and worry consumes her on her walk. 

What if he got hurt at practice? Or worse, what if he got hurt driving home? She contemplates walking past his house to check on him but convinces herself that a phone call will suffice and goes for the receiver the moment she steps foot in her kitchen. She turns the dial and rings him, but there's no answer. Joyce brings her book bag into her room and kicks it to the side before storming back into the kitchen and furiously dialling the number for the Hoppers. 

Jim’s father answers the phone on the third ring and Joyce releases a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. 

“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Hopper. I was just wondering if Jim was home?”

“He’s not, can I take a message?”

“Do you know if he’s alright?” she asks weakly. 

“As far as I know?” his father responds, confused. “Are you sure you don’t want to leave a message?”

Before Joyce can answer, the front door swings open, announcing her father's return from his weekly poker game. She hangs up the phone before responding to Mr. Hopper and scampers towards the sink where she gets to work scrubbing the plates that had been left over the past few days. 

“Have you just been bumming around all day?” her father asks as he stumbles into the kitchen. She can smell the scotch on his breath from across the room and remains still. 

“I went to the library to study.”

“Such a smart girl,” he grins wickedly, continuing through the house towards his bedroom. 

Once the dishes are clean, Joyce makes herself a sandwich and retreats to her room where she curls up beneath her covers and wonders why Hopper forgot about their plans. 

**.**

**.**

  
  


The following morning, Joyce searches the halls for Hopper so she can confront him and demand he explain why he stood her up, but she doesn’t see him anywhere. He wasn’t exactly hard to spot in a crowd, being incredibly tall, and she wonders where he could be. 

The warning bell rings and Joyce gives up on her search and heads to the locker room to prepare for gym class. She knows she’ll see him in science and she plans on cornering him after class and lecturing him for scaring the crap out of her. 

In the locker room, she selects her usual spot in the corner, away from her fellow classmates and changes into the required sweatpants and grey cotton t-shirt. Placing her own clothes into her locker, she overhears two girls giggling on the other side of the lockers and the sound of Hopper’s name grabs her attention. She steps towards the blue metal cage and stills her breathing so she can focus on what’s being said. 

From the other side of the locker room, she hears a girl laugh and say, “C’mon Chrissy. You  _ have _ to tell us more.”

Feeling daring, Joyce peers around the side of the lockers into the adjacent aisle and immediately recognizes the two seniors she can hear. Chrissy Carpenter and her best friends, Melina and Teresa. Chrissy is standing with her back to Joyce wearing nothing but a pale pink pair of panties and a matching bra, while her friends have already changed into their gym clothes. Before they have a chance to spot her, Joyce shrinks herself back into the corner where she’s invisible to them. She knows she shouldn’t be listening in on them, but she can’t help herself. 

“Where did he take you?” she hears one of the girls ask. 

“We went to one of those drive-in movies,” Chrissy replies. Both of her friends squeal. 

“And?  _ What happened?”  _

“Sorry ladies, I don’t kiss and tell.” 

Though she can’t see, Joyce can hear the smirk in Chrissy’s voice and she cringes. 

“But I’m also not one to get past first base and shut up. He’s a  _ really  _ good kisser,” Chrissy gushes. This time she’s met with even more squealing and giggling. 

Joyce can feel her pulse racing and she doesn’t need to look into a mirror to know her cheeks are the colour of tomatoes. After the girls leave the locker room, she splashes her face with cold water and grips at the edges of the sink to steady herself. She stares at her own reflection and swallows hard. He stood her up for a date and she was  _ livid.  _

**.**

**.**

Hopper had been on a handful of dates. He’d never had a serious relationship, but the news of him dating wasn’t a shock to Joyce. He dated frequently, he kissed girls in their class at parties and on occasion he admitted he went further. It never bothered her. He was entitled to live his life without her judgements, but what didn’t sit right with Joyce was the fact that he blew her off for a girl he  _ just _ met. 

Worse than that, he hadn’t even called her to apologize afterwards. 

Joyce blows off first and second period and by time she gets to science class, she’s absolutely livid with Hopper. She claims her seat without glancing in his direction, and when he calls her name she looks the other way. Lucky for her, Mr. Benson begins the lesson and Hopper is forced to stop trying to attract her attention. She notices him staring at her out of the corner of her eye, but keeps her eyes glued on the blackboard. 

When class is dismissed, he’s immediately in front of her desk, staring down at her with pleading eyes. “Joyce,” he says, demanding her attention, “is everything alright?”

_ Figures,  _ she thinks to herself. He doesn’t even realize he’s done something wrong. With a huff, she balances her books on her arm, looks him dead in the eye and simply smiles, “I missed you at the library yesterday.”

Satisfied with the sarcastic way the remark falls off her tongue, she turns swiftly on her heel and walks towards the exit. 

“Oh shit,” he blubbers. “Joyce. I am so so sorry!” He reaches for her arm and forces her to stop and face him. 

Desperate to keep herself composed, Joyce rolls her shoulders back and tilts her head. “I assume you had something more important to do? And that all the phones died so you couldn’t call and apologize. I mean, that is the only logical explanation as to why you stood me up and then never called to explain why.”

He pales and fiddles with his thumbs. Though he towers over her, he feels much smaller than her and he stutters as he attempts to speak. 

“I’m so sorry! I never meant to stand you up, it’s just… my dad,” he pauses and gulps before he continues speaking, “he needed a hand with some chores and I completely lost track of time.” 

Joyce raises her eyebrow at him but he only nods, as if he’s convincing himself of his own story. 

“That’s funny. I didn’t know your dad was a seventeen-year-old blonde cheerleader,” she deadpans. 

She watches as his jaw falls open and then flops closed before opening again, a fish out of water. 

“Who told you about Chrissy?” 

“Does it  _ really _ matter?” she exclaims. No longer able to contain her anger, Joyce storms out of the classroom and off to her locker. With shaky hands, she turns the dial and enters the combination, slams her textbook onto the metal shelf and reaches for her pack of cigarettes, which she stuffs into the back pocket of her jeans. 

“Joyce!” Hopper's voice echoes through the hallway and a few people turn around to stare. 

He reaches her locker and barks at the bystanders on-looking before reaching for her hand and cautiously covering it with his own palm. 

“Joyce, please listen to me,” he pleads. His voice cracks and Joyce can see tears forming so she nods and lets him continue. 

“I didn’t mean to stand you up, I just  _ forgot _ ,” he admits in a quick breath. 

“You _ just _ lied to me!”

“I know and I’m…”

“In all the time that we have known each other, you’ve never once lied to me,” she whispers. She sounds broken and defeated and it breaks something in Hopper, who reaches down and wraps his arms around her shoulders. He rests his chin on her head and waits until her breathing normalizes. 

“I didn’t want to lie to you Joyce.” He tells her when he releases his hold on her. 

“Then why did you?” 

“I’m not sure I’m going to see her again and I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” he admits. 

“Why wouldn’t you see her again? Sounds to me like she had a great time.”

“She  _ told  _ you?”

“I overheard,” Joyce shrugs sheepishly. She didn’t want to admit that she’d been listening. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because I didn’t want you to tell me not to go.”

“I wouldn’t have.”

“Yes, you would have. You made the way you feel about her crystal clear the last time I brought her up and I didn’t want you to convince me that I shouldn’t go.”

“You don’t always have to listen to me you know,” she chuckles, a smile finally replacing her scowl. 

“I care about what you think, Joyce.” 

“And I want to see you happy, Hop.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I swear I’ll never lie to you again.”

“You better not because next time I’ll have to kick your ass,” she laughs, playfully nudging into him. 

They begin to walk towards the cafeteria, and just like any other time they’d fought, they’re quick to move on and it’s as if the entire dramatic scene in the hall never happened. Only, unlike their previous fights, this one still weighs on Joyce’s shoulders. 

“Hey Joyce,” Hopper says. “I want you to know that even if I do see Chrissy again, I promise it won’t change anything between us.”

But it already had begun to change things and she had a feeling that the changes were only going to snowball in the weeks to come. 

That afternoon at lunch, instead of losing herself in a world of fiction, she finds herself lost in a web of her own feelings. Was she angry with Hopper because he bailed on her for Chrissy, because he lied about it? Or was her anger rooted in the fact that he was becoming romantically involved and she feared that this one wouldn’t be as short-lived as the others. 

**.**

**.**

Just as Joyce feared, as Hopper began to spend more time with Chrissy, he spent less time with her. On two separate occasions, he cancelled plans with Joyce to spend time with his new “not” girlfriend (as he insisted when Joyce asked if they were an item yet). She was disappointed when he cancelled, but she figures it’s a passing phase and she would only have to share Hopper temporarily, so she decides to put on a brave face and act like it doesn’t bother her. The silver lining was that he was always honest about why he was bailing on their plans, and she truly believed that he would never lie to her again, which brought her some sense of comfort. 

On Thursday, Joyce notices that Chrissy has secured herself a seat at Hopper’s usual lunch table and she rolls her eyes to herself. She’s sitting at her typical table with Eli and Josie, who are engaged in an animated discussion about string theory and its applications that Joyce tuned out of a long time ago. 

She and Hopper never had lunch together. It wasn’t as though they  _ couldn’t  _ sit together, but she knew he enjoyed spending the lunch period with his friends and she preferred spending time with him when they were away from the prying eyes of their classmates. Joyce knew he enjoyed the mindless conversations and bonding that having lunch with his teammates offered, but there Chrissy was, seated right next to him, pretending to be interested in whatever story is being told. 

Hopper must hate having her practically glued to his side. He was such an individual that loved his independence, surely he would tell Chrissy he enjoyed eating lunch with his friends, but Chrissy is right back in the seat next to him the next day, stealing french fries off his plate and causing Joyce to scowl from across the cafeteria. 

After school on Friday, Joyce finds Hopper waiting for her at her locker. 

“Hey,” he smiles. 

“Hey,” she replies. She busies herself by filling her book bag and preparing to head home so that she doesn’t have to look at him. He’d been avoiding her all week; cancelling plans, rushing out of science so he could meet Chrissy for lunch, skipping out on their conversations at her locker before class, so she’s surprised to find him waiting. 

“Look, I’m sorry we haven’t seen much of each other this week. I was wondering if you wanted to come with us to the diner tonight?”

“Us?”

“Yeah, Benny, Chrissy, a few of the other guys…”

“Sorry. I have plans tonight,” she lies. 

He doesn’t seem to buy it but he also doesn’t push. 

“Well, if you change your mind, that’s where we’ll be.” He walks off without uttering another word and Joyce angrily stuffs her pencil case into her bag. 

It’s not lost on her that he doesn’t take the blame for them not having seen each other, and her anger makes her cheeks hot. She didn’t have any plans. She knew it and she knew Hopper knew it, but she couldn’t bring herself to sit at a table across from him and Chrissy and watch them moon over one another. It was bad enough she had to witness it at school, she didn’t need to go out of her way to feel uncomfortable as well. 

She wanted to be happy for Hopper. But something about Chrissy rubbed her the wrong way and she hated seeing them together. The thought made her stomach curl into knots and she knows that things can’t keep going on like this because if they did, she risked losing her favourite person. 

On her walk home, Joyce promises herself that she’ll try harder to be happy for him. She could muster up the courage to plaster a fake smile on her face and comment on what a cute couple they made, at least until Hopper got bored of her and things could go back to normal. 

When Joyce arrives at home, she finds a note on the fridge explaining that both of her parents will be out for the evening. She prepares dinner for herself and takes the plate into her room. Once she’s finished eating, she wraps a blanket around her shoulders and slouches back against the wall with her sketchpad. Joyce flips to a fresh page and removes a charcoal pencil from her sack before beginning to draw on the blank sheet. She’s not sure what it is when she begins, but she channels her emotions and allows her hand to move with how she feels. Sketching was not something she did often, but when she did find time to sit down and work, her pieces reflected some of her innermost thoughts. 

She continues to draw, black lines stretching across the sheet in various directions until the sun fades in the window and the evening air chills her room. She could have gone to the diner instead of spending the night alone in her tiny room, but then she would have to face him, and facing him meant facing  _ them,  _ and facing them meant facing feelings she was afraid to confront. 

Her pencil falls to the side, the drawing now complete and she finds herself face to face with an eye, only it’s not just any eye, it’s Hoppers. It was wise, yet fragile, and her fingers hover over the still piece of art as she processes what it all means. 

She wishes she was at the diner with Hopper, that Chrissy never came into the picture. What surprises her the most is that she finds herself wishing she was in Chrissy’s position. She wants to be there  _ with _ Hopper. It hits her like a freight train and she’s winded and drowning at the same time that she’s flying.  _ With _ Hopper. 

She repeats the realization over in her head and turns the drawing over in her hands. Of course, she was jealous of him spending more time with someone else, that was something all friends experience, but what she feels, this gnawing feeling in her gut was not the type of jealousy experienced by abandoned friends. This was the type that reared its ugly head at inconvenient times and reminded her that no matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to completely forget the way she felt about him. 

Unlike every other time she had this thought and forced herself to dismiss it, she leans into the feeling and finds herself going down the rabbit hole of “what-ifs.” What if she told him that she  _ might _ have feelings for him? Would he feel the same way, or would it ruin their friendship and leave her with nothing? What if she told him and he wanted nothing to do with her? Or worse, what if he felt the same way but then things inevitably fell apart and left them with nothing. 

_What if_ she admitted to herself that it wasn’t “ _might”_ have feelings for him but rather she _did_. That the question wasn’t; what if she told him she _might_ have feelings for him, but was; what if she told him she had feelings for him?

_ Woah,  _ she thinks to herself, sitting up and letting herself become consumed by the headrush. 

She had feelings for Hopper. 

Romantic feelings. The can’t-eat, can’t-sleep, reach-for-the-stars, over-the-fence, World Series kind of feelings. 

Joyce climbs out of bed and drags herself into the shower, where she remains lost in the confounds of her own mind. At one point, she wonders if she should tell Hopper about her feelings, since they told each other everything, but she decides that it would be pointless to tell him. He was with Chrissy now and there was no way he felt the same way. He saw her as a friend, and lately, she was questioning even that. 

**.**

**.**

Saturday afternoon, Hopper shows up at Joyce’s house at quarter past twelve so they can head to the library. Joyce, who assumed Hopper would bail on her to spend the weekend with Chrissy, hadn’t thought about how awkward she would feel after her late-night revelation. She climbs into the front of the car and squeaks an awkward hello, keeping her gaze directed out the passenger side window. 

“So, what did you get up to last night?” he asks.

“I had some homework to catch up on,” she lies.

“When are you  _ ever _ behind on homework?”

“It was a busy week,” she replies. She offers no further explanation, and they both suffer in silence for a few minutes.

“I missed you last night. At the diner.”

“You did?”

“Of course,” he grins, “who else will make fun of me for ordering extra fries but then still help me eat them?”

“I’ll come next time,” she says. It’s a lie. 

She’s still waiting for him to address the elephant in the room when they arrive at the library, and she realizes he isn’t going to. 

They claim their usual table in the back corner. It’s busier today than it was last weekend when Joyce studied alone, and a few of their classmates wave to Hopper as they wind through the book stacks and cubicles. 

The pair fall into a comfortable routine in no time, Hopper teasing Joyce because she refuses to fold down the corner pages of her books, and Joyce claiming only madmen would ruin a perfectly good book. For a while, she forgets about the strain the past week had put on their friendship. Everything is simple, easy and  _ them.  _ Just Joyce and Hopper, teasing one another the way best friends do. It’s almost too easy to forget about all of the things plaguing her consciousness when she’s with him. He made her feel at home, which made it even harder to face the fact that it felt like he was slipping away.

Joyce chooses to forget about that for the moment and to just enjoy spending time with Hopper. As pathetic as it sounded, she was willing to take what she could get. 

“What do you think about driving up to the quarry this week?” she asks him. 

He’s leaning with his elbows propped up on the table, his textbook still sealed shut and he’s staring at a table across the way. “Huh?” he mumbles, turning back towards Joyce. 

She follows his prior gaze and can’t resist the urge to roll her eyes when her own eyes settle on a blonde, sitting with two of her friends, giggling. 

“The quarry, this week?” she repeats. Irritation rings through her voice as she watches Hopper return his attention to the blonde while responding to the question she knows he wasn’t listening to. “Sure.”

“Are you even listening to me?” Joyce asks. 

“Of course I am,” he replies. He gives her his undivided attention for the next few moments while she discusses their potential plans for the week ahead, but it’s tugged away the moment Chrissy saunters over and perches herself on the side of the table next to Hopper. 

“Hi James,” she smirks, her hand lingering on his bicep. 

Joyce cringes when she calls him James but does her best to remain unphased by Chrissy’s presence. 

“Chrissy, you know Joyce, right?” Hopper introduces them.

With an intimidating smile, Chrissy extends her palm to Joyce and limply shakes her hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Joyce mutters beneath her breath. 

“The girls and I were just talking about that  _ thing  _ you said at lunch the other day,” Chrissy laughs, her hand roaming up Hopper’s arm.

Joyce resists the urge to gag and roll her eyes, instead opting to watch Hopper who clearly doesn’t know how to react to Chrissy’s display of PDA. 

“We were also discussing our final project for home economics and I suggested we make that grilled cheese sandwich you made for me. Isn’t he just the best?” she turns to Joyce and gushes. “I swear, he makes the world's greatest grilled cheese. You should get him to make it for you sometime.”

Of course, Joyce had had Hopper’s grilled cheese plenty of times and she knew that Chrissy knew this. She and Hopper may enjoy their lunch period with separate crowds, but it was no secret to their classmates that they were long time friends and Joyce knew that Chrissy’s statement was meant to mark her territory. She was trying to tell Joyce that she and Hopper communicated in a way that he and Joyce didn’t, by demonstrating that she knew personal details about him. 

Joyce considers making a snarky comment back and is surprised when Hopper speaks up before she has a chance to. 

“Oh, Joyce has had it before. Who do you think taught me how to make it?” he proudly brags while remaining completely oblivious to the stand-off that was occurring. 

“How  _ cute,”  _ Chrissy remarks. “Anyways, I just came over here to see if I could steal Jim away for a bit. I’m struggling with an assignment and he promised he would help me. You don’t mind, do you, Joyce?” 

Hopper looks from Chrissy to Joyce and back, unsure of whether he should speak. 

Not wanting to give Chrissy any type of satisfaction, Joyce smiles up at her and replies, “Of course not. Some of us need a little more help than others.”

The comment goes over Chrissy’s head, but Hopper catches it and frowns. 

“Just give me a minute and I’ll be right over,” he tells Chrissy who hops down off the table and sashays back to her friends. 

“Really Joyce?” he scolds. 

“What?” 

“That wasn’t very nice and you know it.”

She wants to scream at him and tell him that Chrissy was the one who insisted on coming over to their table to prove some type of point to her; that the entire conversation they just had was a backhanded way of warning Joyce to back off, but she can’t. She can tell that he’s infatuated with this girl and that she makes him happy. As badly as she wants to say something, she cares too much about Hopper to hurt him purposefully, so she bottles up her anger and swallows her pride. 

“Ya well, I guess I’m not very nice sometimes,” she snaps. She packs up her books and storms out of the library. Chrissy watches with a satisfied smirk while Hopper simply stares after her and sighs while he wonders; What the hell had gotten into her? 

Frustrated, Joyce begins her long walk home where she curses at Chrissy beneath her breath for ruining the first afternoon she had all week alone with Hopper. Couldn’t Hopper see that being with Chrissy was driving a wedge between them? 

  
  


**.**

**.**

  
  
  
  


Midway through the walk back to her house, it begins to pour rain. Rather than run the rest of the way, Joyce looks up at the sky, arms outstretched and closes her eyes, feeling each individual bead of rain that collides with her skin and rolls down her cheeks. How the hell did she get here? Walking home alone in the rain because Hopper abandoned her for someone else. Was she out of line when she insulted Chrissy, she doubted it? Was she jealous because she wanted to be the girl Hopper was interested in? Yes, but this was something else entirely. She was angry with Hopper for putting someone else before her when he promised he would always be there. 

Looking up at the sky, she takes a moment to appreciate the sarcastic irony that was her life this past week, when everything came down to nothing. She pinches her eyes closed, enjoying the cold feel of the rain soaking through her clothes as her mind flashes back to the first time he promised her he would always be there.

* * *

_ Sitting on Hopper’s porch, watching as the storm rolled through the town, Joyce buried her face in Hopper’s shoulder and sobbed. She was aware of the stain she was leaving on his shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. He rubs his hands over her back and tries to calm her, but she shakes like the wind from the storm and clings to his arm like her life depends on it. Hardly ten years old, she and Hopper had been friends for a few years, but today was the first time Joyce told him about her home life.  _

_ It started when he came over to ask if she wanted to go to the park with him and he interrupted one of her father's fits. He was screaming at her mother about something in the kitchen, and Joyce meekly accepted Hopper’s offer, embarrassed that he heard her parents fighting and followed him back to his house. The two played in his yard as if nothing happened, but soon the storm clouds rolled in and Hopper’s mother insisted they either come inside or stay on the porch.  _

_ For the first time ever, she addressed what happened back at her house and admitted that she hated it at home. Unsure of what to do, Hopper hugged her while she cried and rubbed her back like his mother always did to him when he was upset. When she finally calmed down, he helped her wipe away her tears and he took her hand in his.  _

_ “Don’t worry Joyce. No matter what it’s going to be okay because you’ll always have me.” _

_ “I will?” _

_ “I promise,” he extends his pinky and wraps it around hers. “Always.” _

* * *

And now she was walking home alone in the rain because apparently she and Hopper had different definitions of always.

**.**

**.**

  
  


“Hey,” Hopper beams as Joyce stumbles into the diner and towards their usual table. 

“Hey,” she says softly. “You wanted to talk?”

When Hopper had called last night after she got home from the library, he caught her off guard. He asked if they could meet up for lunch at the diner, and against her better judgement, Joyce agreed. She assumed that maybe he wanted to apologize for everything that happened between them the past week, but she told herself not to get her hopes up as she made her way across town to the local hangout spot. 

“Yeah, I have something to tell you,” he says. He’s nervously fidgeting with his fingers and Joyce notices that he refuses to look her in the eye, which does nothing to calm her nerves. 

“What can I get you kids?” a waitress interrupts. 

“Two chocolate milkshakes please,” Hopper orders, “do you want anything else?” 

His question is directed at Joyce, who shakes her head and says she’s fine with the milkshake. 

Once the waitress is out of earshot, Joyce leans towards Hopper and urges him to tell her whatever it was he needed to. 

“So, you um… have to tell me something?”

Things between them had never been this awkward. They shared everything with one another and there was hardly ever anything that was too difficult or personal to share. But this was different. An awkward silence fills the space between them as Hopper runs his thumb over his chin and stalls. He opens his mouth to speak twice, but promptly closes it and stutters instead of speaking. 

“Hop? You’re scaring me a bit,” she chuckles, desperately trying to lighten the mood. 

The waitress returns and slides two milkshakes between them. Joyce thanks her and immediately reaches for her so she can take a long sip; something to focus on. 

“I- I asked Chrissy to go to prom with me,” he finally admits. The sentence tumbles out in a single breath, and he too reaches for his shake so that he doesn’t have to keep speaking. 

“Oh,” she whispers. 

She knows it’s ridiculous, but after their last conversation about the dance, part of her was hoping that he would ask her to prom, even if it meant going as friends. The other night at the lake he was insistent that she consider going, which manifested itself into the crazy notion that he may ask her so she would be forced to attend and have fun. 

She wanted him to ask her, and not as strictly friends. But she couldn’t tell him that now without it coming off as jealous and some pathetic excuse as to why he shouldn’t take Chrissy Carpenter to prom, so Joyce smiles, takes a sip of her milkshake and pretends like her heart hasn’t just been shattered. 

“I still want you to come, Joyce. It won’t be the same without you.” 

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of fun without me.”

“Joyce,” he sighs.

“It’s fine, Hop. Go. Have fun with your girlfriend.”

He closes his eyes and gulps. “I really hope I see you there.” With that, he rises from the booth and looks down at her, “do you want a ride home?”

“I think I’ll stick around for a while, thanks.”

Hopper nods and heads out to his car. It’s the first time he doesn’t correct Joyce when she refers to Chrissy as his girlfriend and it cuts like a knife. 

Joyce excuses herself from the otherwise empty table and heads to the ladies' room, where she splashes her face with warm water and succumbs to the tears that begin to form. She was a fool trice. First, because she thought he was going to apologize, secondly because she thought he’d realized how little effort he’d been putting into their relationship lately and finally because a small part of her was hoping he’d ask her to the prom. 

Looking at herself in the mirror, she realizes she looks pathetic. Joyce Horowitz didn’t cry over boys, and she certainly shouldn’t cry over one she believed would never hurt her. Before anyone can see her, Joyce wipes away her tears with the back of her hand and sniffles. He was just like the rest of them, selfish and capable of breaking her heart. 

As Joyce is preparing to leave, the door swings open and Josie walks in. 

“Joyce? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Joyce sniffles. 

“You’re crying,” Josie points out. 

“It’s nothing, I’m fine.” She dries her eyes and does her best to step back into her tough girl persona, but Josie’s worried eyes cause something in her to shatter and another tear slips down her cheek. 

“Why don’t we go order something to eat?” the girl suggests. Silently, Joyce nods and cleans her face for the second time before she follows Josie out to a new table near the window of the diner. 

The pair orders a plate of fries and they eat in silence. Joyce appreciates what Josie is doing, but she isn’t sure she’s ready to open up to someone she hardly knows. Instead of asking about it, Josie begins to tell a story about a show she saw on television the night before, and before she knows it, Joyce finds herself smiling. 

“Feeling better?”

“I am. Thank you.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Josie says, “but we can if you want to. Tomorrow at lunch we can pretend like this never happened.”

Intrigued by the offer to get all of her feelings out there but then resume their normal day-to-day routine, Joyce spends the next hour telling Josie everything. She begins with the first time Hopper blew her off to spend time with Chrissy and details their fight after he lied about it. She then goes on to explain that Hopper had started changing, and how she came to realize she “might” have feelings for him. She doesn’t dare admit that she  _ does _ have them, because telling Josie made it real and she wasn’t ready for that yet. She finishes by talking about what happened in the library, how she came to meet Hopper assuming he was going to apologize only to discover he was taking Chrissy to prom. 

She leaves out the part about wanting to go to prom with him, but she does tell Josie that Hopper asked her to consider attending. 

“Screw him,” Josie remarks when Joyce finally finishes her rant. “You’re better off without him.”

Joyce knows that isn’t true, but she appreciates Josie’s spirited attempts to support her. 

“You know what we should do?”

“What?”

“We should go to prom together and just have a total blast, really rub his nose in the fact that you can have fun without him.” 

“I don’t know… I’m not a fan of dances.”

“Neither am I. I hate the entire idea.”

“Then why would you want to go?”

“Well you can’t go alone now, can you.”

“Josie, you don’t have to…”

Josie holds up her palm to stop Joyce, “I want to. It’ll be fun! What do you say?”

“What the hell, let’s do it.”

**.**

**.**

The week that passes between the afternoon at the diner and the date of Junior prom is the longest week of Joyce’s life. Between classwork, finding a dress suitable for the dance and actively avoiding Hopper, she hardly has a moment to herself but the time passes extremely slow. It also marks the longest she’d ever gone without talking to Hopper. 

Avoiding him began as a way to prevent having to have any awkward conversations, but when he made no effort to reach out, her anger towards him grew and she had a second reason to avoid him. She saw him every day in science class, but they avoided looking at one another and she always bolted out of the classroom the moment the dismissal bell rang. 

The only positive thing that came out of the mess with Hopper, was her newfound friendship with Josie. The girls discussed their plans for the dance during the lunch period on Monday and on Wednesday Joyce went over to Josie’s house after school to borrow a dress. 

She selects a simple black dress with thin shoulder straps that hugs her hips in a flattering way, while Josie settles on a powder blue gown with a puffy skirt. The girls get ready together at Josie’s house on Friday afternoon. They sneak a few shots from Josie’s parent's liquor cabinet, and Joyce lets Josie pin her hair back using a fancy clip. She does a simple makeup look, smoky eyes and a red lip and she finishes the look with her everyday black Converse. 

Josie tries to convince Joyce to wear heels, but she’s hard-headed and insists that she feels better wearing the sneakers. Josie’s mom snaps a polaroid of the two girls and drops them off outside the gym, which has a hand-painted banner hanging out front that reads “Hawkins High, Junior Prom ‘59.” 

The gymnasium is coloured in silver and blue streamers and balloons and is the most horrific thing Joyce has ever laid eyes on. In the center, a band is set up and playing, while several of her classmates swarm the dance floor. She doesn’t see anyone she recognizes and wraps her arms around herself while she follows Josie through the crowd and towards a vacant table. 

“Well, what do you think?” Josie asks. 

“I think this is the tackiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Joyce laughs.

“Isn’t it awful?!” Josie giggles, “C’mon, I hear that someone always spikes the punch, let’s make this evening more fun.” 

While retrieving punch, a blonde boy Joyce doesn’t recognize approaches Josie. 

“Want to dance?” he asks her before even introducing himself.

“I’m with my friend, but thanks,” Josie politely declines. 

“C’mon,” he insists, his hand settling on her wrist, he tugs on it, “one dance.”

“She said no. Now beat it before I make you regret ever coming over here,” Joyce barks at him. Terrified, the kid backs off and vanishes into the crowd.

“Thanks,” Josie smiles. 

“Anytime.”

.

.

Across the gym, Hopper arrives with Chrissy, who’s dressed in a bright pink dress, on his arm and hands two tickets to the kid sitting at the ticket table. He recognizes Bob, a nerdy AV kid who was usually setting up speakers at things like this. Hopper always felt bad, watching as he set things up at dances. As one of the only members of the Hawkins AV club, he probably never had a chance to enjoy things like dances. Then again, Bob was one of the nerdiest kids Hopper had ever met, he doubted he would want to attend dances, 

Thanking Bob, Hopper leads Chrissy into the gym where they begin mingling with a group of guys from his football team. He was nervous to ask Chrissy to the junior prom. She was a popular senior and he wasn’t sure this was her scene, but she seemed to be fitting in just fine. After greeting some more friends, he asks if she wants to dance and leads her to the dance floor, which is where he first spots her. Standing near the punch bowl wearing a flattering black dress, her hair pinned back showing off her high cheekbones and red lips, was Joyce. 

He does a double-take and his hand slips from Chrissy’s shoulder. 

.

.

Joyce notices Hopper the moment he enters. As if his height and powder blue suit weren’t enough, it was like the energy in the room shifted when he arrived. He was surrounded by a few of his teammates, and eventually, he ended up on the dance floor holding Chrissy, that was where she first noticed him staring at her. 

She realizes that she can let his presence bother her, linger on the way his date wraps herself around him and call it a night, but she doesn’t want to do that. She came out to have fun, and he didn’t get to take that away from her, not when she’d come this far. 

After Josie excuses herself to say hello to a few friends, Joyce finds herself standing alone at the edge of the dance floor, awkwardly tapping her foot. She looks out at her classmates, all having a blast jumping around to the music. Part of her envies them. They all seemed so care-free. She told herself that she would make an effort to relax more, and coming tonight was the first step. 

She was proud of herself for actually putting on a dress and going through with it. It didn’t matter that Hopper was here with Chrissy, or that the blonde was  _ all _ over him, she came to the dance for herself. That’s why, when a boy she recognizes from her English class approaches her and introduces himself as Lonnie Byers, she agrees to dance with him. 

She shyly follows Lonnie onto the dance floor and laughs when their hands collide as they reach for one another. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she relaxes into his touch and allows him to sway them. They make small talk while they move and it’s pleasant and peaceful until she spots Hopper off to the side. 

She shouldn’t be staring at him. She should focus on the nice boy who asked her to dance, the man whose arms are wrapped around her center. Instead, she’s focused on the man looming on the opposite side of the gym. 

Joyce is aware he’s watching and maybe she doesn’t care but maybe she’s putting on a show that she wants him to watch. Judging by the way he’s grinding down on his molars,  _ maybe _ it’s working. This childish game he's trapped her into playing. Because she wasn’t staring until she noticed him staring, and now they’re stealing glances of one another from opposite sides of a school gym covered in pale blue balloons and pathetic streamers, and she can’t bring herself to look away. 

When Lonnie leans in to tell her she looks beautiful, she realizes how ridiculous she’s being. Here she was in the arms of a perfectly nice boy and she was wasting time thinking about someone who she wasn’t romantically involved with, someone that was here with someone else. 

She didn’t care that he was here with Chrissy. She didn’t care that they’d been spending less and less time together. She certainly didn’t care about the way he looked in his suit. 

But, he looked handsome and she couldn’t help herself from staring. From wondering what it would feel like if she was in his arms and not Lonnie’s.

She catches him staring and lets Lonnie hold her closer. 

**.**

**.**

If Hopper’s eyes could, they would be boring holes into the back of Lonnie Byer's head from across the room. With Chrissy off fetching them some punch, Hopper has nothing to do besides watch as Lonnie, a scrawny kid who was in his gym class, held Joyce by the waist and whispered in her ear. 

He has half a mind to storm across the gym and deck the kid, but Joyce appears to be enjoying it and that’s what eats away at him the most. He’s never experienced a feeling like this before; this cold, on-edge feeling that has his hands balled into fists and his cheeks flushed. He doesn’t recognize that he’s jealous, because why would he be? He and Joyce were friends. He was here with Chrissy. Hot. Blonde. Cheerleading, Chrissy. 

But why did the thought of Lonnie Byers palm pressed to the small of Joyce’s back drive him  _ fucking _ mad?

He unclenches his fists and stretches out his fingers, staring down at them so he can avoid looking at  _ them _ . He feels Chrissy’s perfectly manicured hand slide into his and she emerges at his side with a glass of punch. 

Following his gaze across the room, she notices what he’s looking at; Joyce. 

“I thought you said Joyce wasn’t coming,” Chrissy remarks, nestling into Hopper’s side, her arm possessively wrapped around his middle. 

“I didn’t think she was. That’s the thing about Joyce, she’s unpredictable,” he smiles. Chrissy tugs on his hand and leads him towards the dance floor. As he takes her in his arms, he steals a glance of Joyce from over Chrissy’s head. The dance has ended and she’s standing with a girl he recognizes from her photography club and laughing. Her crimson red lips are curved into a  _ real _ smile and she looks radiant. Her dress is simple, black; a very  _ Joyce _ colour, and the sneakers she’s wearing force his own lips into a smile. 

Joyce Horowitz was one hell of an unpredictable woman.  _ It was one of the things he loved about her.  _

_ And it rains in your bedroom _

_ Everything is wrong _


	3. Back To December

**Chapter 3 - Back to December**

  
  


_ Because the last time you saw me _

_ Is still burned in the back of your mind _

  
  


Hopper glides down the hall with one hand planted firmly on Chrissy’s lower back, the other wrapped around his science book. With her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder, he has a clear view of her face as she mouths hello to one of her classmates. One of her favourite things to do, he’d noticed, was parade down the hall on his arm before class. 

How he managed to date one of the most popular seniors at Hawkins High, he’ll never understand. She was known by just about everyone, a cheerleader and could have any boy in the senior class yet for some reason she was interested in him. He really thought she was toying with him and using him to have some fun (not that he was complaining) and was pleasantly surprised when she agreed to go to prom with him. He thought she would turn him down, after all, it was  _ junior _ prom and she was a senior, but she enthusiastically agreed to go. 

After asking her to prom, while his confidence levels were still running high, he asked her what they were and she replied with a sly smile and asked what he wanted them to be. He told her he wanted to be able to call her his girlfriend, and they’d been inseparable ever since. 

The entire situation felt like a dream. He was dating one of the most popular girls in school; he bought his first corsage and his parents snapped photos of them going to prom, he’d gone further than first base. It was all so  _ perfect.  _ His friends were constantly reminding him of how lucky he was. They slapped his back after practice and whistled as they begged for details and it made Hopper feel important. He was already considered “popular” amongst his classmates before dating a senior, and now that he and Chrissy were together it seemed like every guy in the junior class wanted to befriend him. 

Chrissy wasn’t the type of girl Hopper imagined would be his first girlfriend, but she was nice, it was easy to talk to her and she made him feel like maybe he could be someone outside of Hawkins. She was constantly talking about her plans to move to the big city after graduation and he was beginning to believe that maybe the world had more to offer than the mundane average life that was being offered by Hawkins, Indiana. Nothing ever happened in Hawkins. Being with Chrissy made him feel like he wasn’t confined to the subpar life his parents sold themselves to in this town. 

Of course, Hopper had had flings before Chrissy, but never a serious girlfriend. He was quickly learning that it was much harder to balance a relationship with his usual life than it was a fling. He spent nearly every day with Chrissy after practice and he was beginning to miss spending time with his friends. 

As if on cue with his internal monologue, he spots Joyce at her locker and his chest tightens. She’s turned away from him and towards the inside of the locker, but he knows she wouldn’t meet his eye if she was facing the other way. He’s not exactly sure why, but Joyce is upset with him. At first, he suspected it was because he’d been spending more time with Chrissy, but she’d been actively avoiding him since the day in the diner when he told her asked Chrissy to prom and he was beginning to think there was more to it. It was no secret that Joyce disliked his girlfriend, and while she never acted this way with his past flings, he knew that was because they were nothing like the blonde currently holding his hand. 

Chrissy represented everything Joyce resented. She was tall, blonde and had everything handed to her by her rich father. Growing up, Joyce was always very vocal about her hatred of spoiled kids who didn’t understand the value of hard work and money, so Hopper understood why she hated Chrissy. 

What he couldn’t understand was why she was still so upset with him. Aside from that first day where he blew her off to take Chrissy on their first date, and the follow-up lie he told, he’d barely seen her so he certainly couldn’t have said something to make her upset. The entire situation didn’t sit right with him and he finds he’s having a hard time swallowing as he stares at her from across the hall. 

Chrissy squeezes his hand and smiles up at him, noticing he’s frowning, “everything alright?”

“Yup.”

“You’re staring at her, you know.”

Hopper is caught off guard. He didn’t realize his stare was so obvious and forces himself to look down. “Sorry,” he mutters. 

“We talked about this Jim,” she sighs. “Do we need to relive that conversation?”

“There’s nothing to even talk about,” he shrugs her hand off his arm. “I should get to class.”

“You don’t want to walk me to class?” she asks, batting her eyelashes up at him. 

“Can’t be late. Tomorrow,” he huffs. He storms off in the direction of his class before she has a chance to protest. He awkwardly catches Joyce’s eye as he walks away and swallows hard. He missed her. He missed pulling up outside her house after nightfall and driving around the town together, talking about everything and anything. He wishes he had someone to talk about their feud with, but she’s the only person in his life he can go to with a problem like this and he couldn’t exactly ask her why they weren’t speaking when he assumed he was supposed to know why. 

Lately, she consumed his nightly thoughts. Memories of them from throughout the years, their last conversation at the diner, before things spiralled out of control and he lost her. The way she smiled while dancing with Lonnie Byers at prom. 

_ Fucking _ Lonnie Byers. It was all he saw when he closed his eyes, the image burned in the back of his mind. Every time he tried to figure out what went wrong and why she wasn’t speaking to him, that’s where he ended up. A vision of her and Lonnie standing fifty feet away from him beneath semi-deflated mylar balloons in the school gym. 

He knows he shouldn’t be so fixated on it; it was irrelevant, but for some reason, night after night he found himself back in that gym, watching as a sinking feeling ate away at his gut. 

Chrissy was so angry with him when she returned and found him staring at Joyce at the dance. She demanded he admit he didn’t have feelings for his best friend, a question which prompted a deep laugh from him. He reassured her that he had never nor would he ever have romantic feelings for Joyce but she didn’t believe him. They ended up stepping out of the gym and into the hall, where their argument ended with Chrissy telling Hopper that if he wanted her to be his girlfriend, he would have to spend less time with Joyce. 

In the moment, he panicked and agreed so that she wouldn’t walk away but now he was regretting it. He missed Joyce terribly. If they were talking right now, he would tease her about the sneakers she wore to the dance and about how she actually attended a school function. She would laugh and tell him she only did it because she wanted to see if all the fuss was worth it; it wasn’t. But Joyce wasn’t speaking to him and he wasn’t sure why. Though even if she was, Chrissy would be upset if he spent any time with her. He’s tempted to apologize but he isn’t sure what he’d be apologizing for and he doesn’t like the idea of a vague apology when Joyce matters so much to him. He reaches first period an absolute mess but he’s certain of one thing, he misses Joyce. 

  
  


**.**

**.**

After school, Hopper is warming up for practice with Benny, tossing a ball back and forth when the cheerleaders appear on the track. 

Chrissy looks over and blows Hopper a kiss and he forces a smile. Benny notices Hopper’s hesitation and stalls before passing the ball back to Hopper. “You alright man? You seem…  _ distracted _ .”

“Yeah. Just didn’t sleep well last night.” It wasn’t a lie. 

Benny was Hopper’s only friend that didn’t seem to put his relationship with Chrissy on a pedestal and he briefly considers admitting that Chrissy was upset because he was paying attention to Joyce at prom, but decides against it, fearing it will give Benny the wrong idea about him and Joyce. There’s no reason for Benny to think he and Joyce are anything more than friends, but there was no reason for Chrissy to think so either, yet she did. 

“You sure? Because your girl is trying to get your attention and you’re not even looking in her direction.” 

Hopper looks over to the track and spots Chrissy bending over to touch her toes, her eyes glued on him. 

“She’s upset with me,” he admits. 

“She doesn’t look upset to me,” Benny smirks. “What happened?” 

“She got mad at me at the prom…”

“Go on,” Benny says. 

“I guess I was paying too much attention to Joyce and she asked if there was something going on between us.”

“What did you tell her?”

“What do you think I told her? No.” 

“So, what’s the problem?”

“She wants me to spend less time with Joyce.”

“Is that why you haven’t been hanging around with Joyce as much?”

“Not exactly,” Hopper admits. They continue to toss the ball between them as they talk, the force Hopper is using to throw increases as he unwinds. “Joyce is mad at me.” 

“Man, you’re having some serious woman problems,” Benny chuckles, “why is she mad at you?”

“I have no idea,” Hopper sighs, “but she’s avoiding me.” 

“Let me see if I understand this correctly. Chrissy is mad at you because you’ve been paying too much attention to Joyce, and Joyce is mad at you because you started dating Chrissy?”

“We don’t know that Joyce even cares that I’m dating Chrissy,” Hopper argues. 

“C’mon man, you’re a smart guy.”

Dismissing Benny, Hopper shakes his head and drops the ball in almost the same moment that the coach blows the whistle, indicating the start of practice. He loses himself in the drills, running until he’s winded and gasping for air. While he dodges the cones in a running drill, he tells himself that he’ll apologize to Chrissy after practice. They’re a great couple and he was willing to do what it took to get things to work. When the team takes a water break, he waves over to Chrissy, who blows him a kiss in return. The cheerleader and the jock, a picture-perfect pair. 

They line up for a new drill and Hopper finds himself on the sidelines next to another junior named Ethan. He’d known Ethan since grade school and they shared a group of mutual friends but they’d never had more than a handful of conversations. 

“Hey man,” Ethan says. 

“Hey.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Hopper replies while watching the drill. 

“You’re still friends with Joyce Horowitz, right?”   
  


“Yeah, why?”

“Do you know if she’s seeing anyone? I saw her at prom and she was looking  _ fine. _ ” 

Hopper grinds his teeth down and tenses his jaw before replying hastily. “Not that I know of.”

“Think you can put in a good word for me?” 

“ _ Doubtful _ ,” he mutters beneath his breath. 

Hopper takes the field and claims his place next to Benny and rolls his shoulders back. “What did you mean when you said I’m a smart guy?”

“You want to have this conversation  _ now _ ?” 

“Explain.”

“You’re really surprised that Joyce is avoiding you? I know you’re new to this whole dating thing but allow me to share some wisdom with you. You can’t hang around with a girl who’s in love with you when you’re dating someone else.”

“I- Joyce is not in love with me.”

“Isn’t she?” Benny smirks. He takes off running down the field, leaving Hopper staring after him with an open jaw. The realization hits him with impressive force, leaving him more winded than the previous drill; was Benny right, did Joyce have feelings for him? Suddenly, all the pieces of the puzzle snap into place and it makes complete sense. Joyce was acting weird around him and Chrissy because she had feelings for him. She wasn’t avoiding him because she was angry with him, she was avoiding him because she was jealous. 

Instinctually, he catches the ball that is lobbed in his direction but he doesn’t run. 

_ Joyce was jealous because she had feelings for him.  _

Whump. He’s on the ground with the teammate that tackled him standing over him. He lays there for a moment before shaking off the tackle and climbing to his feet.

He goes so hard for the rest of the practice that he’s nauseous afterwards. 

After showering and changing back into his jeans and flannel, he makes his way to his car with his gym bag thrown over his shoulder. Chrissy is waiting for him, leaning on the trunk of his car, still in her workout wear. 

“Hey,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Listen, I’m sorry about this morning. It won’t happen again.”

“You looked good at practice,” she smirks. 

“You think?” he grins. He steps towards her and traps her body between his and the car, hands idling on the trunk on either side of her hips. She leans up and kisses him, tongue immediately slipping into his mouth. He brings his hands up to cup her face and convinces himself that his desire to ravish Chrissy is rooted in passion and not a desire for distraction. 

They fool around in the back seat of his car before Hopper drives her home and returns to his own house in time for dinner. 

**.**

**.**

Back at his house, Hopper prepares a ham sandwich for himself and sits down with his mother at the kitchen table. His mom was a stay-at-home mom, which meant she was usually around when Hopper returned home from practice. They went through the same routine every day. Hopper would stumble into the kitchen, muttering about how hungry he was and his mother would warn him not to spoil his appetite before dinner. It always ended with the two of them seated at the table, Hopper holding a sandwich, while she asked about his day. 

He notices she’s much quieter than usual today and speaks up first. “Everything alright mom?”

“Oh, everything’s fine. Just a restless evening, I was waiting for your father to get home.”

Hopper’s father was the town’s chief of police and one of the things he admired most about his parent's marriage was the fact that his mother refused to retire to bed until his father was home safe after a long day on the job. Being that they lived in Hawkins, nothing too eventful ever happened to put his father in danger or keep him out too late, regardless his mother waited for his return each night. 

“How was practice?” she asks. 

“It was fine,” he says between bites. 

“Do you have any plans tonight?” she questions. 

“There’s a party out near the lake but I haven’t decided if I want to go.”

“You should go, maybe bring Joyce?”

“Joyce?” Hopper perks up at the sound of her name. 

“Yeah,” his mother smiles, “I haven’t seen her around much lately. Is everything alright between you two? Normally we don’t go a few days without seeing her here.”

“Everything’s fine,” he lies. “She’s just been really busy with school stuff.”

He can tell she’s considering pressing him and is grateful when she drops in and moves on to asking how school was. After his revelation at practice today, he’s not sure he can handle his mom asking if Joyce hadn’t come around as much because of Chrissy. 

His parents both liked Chrissy. They’d met her a handful of times in passing and got to know her better while they posed for prom photos. Each time the exchange was pleasant. His father even mentioned one night over dinner that he thought she and Hopper made a perfect couple; his mom remained silent but she didn’t object. Once his mother excuses herself to begin preparing supper, Hopper leans back against his chair and closes his eyes. 

His mom was right. There hadn’t been a time over the past five years that Joyce wasn’t consistently spending time at his house, and he realizes that by getting caught up in his own relationship drama (and as of this afternoon dealing with the idea of Joyce potentially having feelings for him) he’d completely neglected his friendship with Joyce. 

He had been so preoccupied trying to keep Chrissy happy that he failed to realize he’d abandoned Joyce. Maybe this was why she was upset with him? Perhaps Benny was way off base and she wasn’t interested in him, she was just pissed at him for promising her he would always be there and then failing to actually be there. Or maybe, he lets himself think, it was a combination of both. 

It would make sense. She was angry at him for standing her up in the library because they had plans as friends, but she was also upset when he told her he was taking Chrissy to prom. He begins to make sense of it all and decides that he needs to apologize for prioritizing his relationship over their friendship. 

Feelings or no feelings, Hopper knew he screwed up as Joyce’s friend. He can feel a headache coming on and fetches himself a glass of water while thinking back on a night years prior, when he promised Joyce he would always be there for her. 

_ They were sitting on his porch, watching as the rain filled the puddles on his driveway. Her face was buried in his shoulder and he was trying to calm her while she cried. It was the first time she’d ever opened up to him about her home life and he was trying to be as available and supportive as he knew how to be.  _

_ He’d never seen anyone cry like this before, and out of instinct, he pulled her into him and began to stroke her back the way his mother used to when he was sick or upset. When she finally stopped crying, he looked down into her big brown eyes and made a promise to himself, and to her.  _

_ “Don’t worry Joyce. No matter what it’s going to be okay because you’ll always have me.” _

_ “I will?” _

_ “I promise,” he said and he meant it. “Always.” _

God, he was an idiot. She had every right to be angry with him for up and leaving the moment someone showed romantic interest in him.  _ Friends _ don’t do that. 

There was nothing he could do about what Benny suggested, but he could attempt to mend fences and fix their friendship by apologizing. He spends the next hour going over all the things he wants to say until he has a well-rehearsed speech, explaining that he’s sorry for not putting her first and for failing to consider her feelings and that he wouldn’t let his relationship affect their friendship going forward. 

**.**

**.**

That night, Hopper drags himself out to a party being hosted by one of his classmates near the lake. Chrissy was busy having a girls night with some of her friends on the cheerleading squad, and Benny was working, but Hopper decided he needed a night out to distract himself from everything he’d recently discovered. Dressed in a casual maroon t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans, he arrives at the lake party when it’s already in full swing. Classmates are gathered around picnic tables and trees, sharing beers and cigarettes greet him as he works his way through the crowd towards a cooler full of beers. He snags one and pops the cap off with his teeth and takes a swig while he surveys the party. He spots a few of his teammates and approaches them with an enthusiastic pat on the back. 

“Hey man, where’s Chrissy tonight?”

“She had a cheerleading thing,” he explains. 

“A senior and a cheerleader, god you two really are something, huh,” one of them hollers. 

‘What can I say? I’m a lucky guy,” he boasts. 

“Hell yeah, you are. To Hopper,” the other friend toasts. The three men raise their bottles and chug. 

Hopper goes to retrieve another drink, stumbling through the dark field when he spots her. Joyce and her friend Josie standing next to the cooler. She’s dressed in a pair of faded jeans and her typical leather jacket, but unlike her usual no make-up look, her lips are painted the same shade of red that they were at prom. 

This was the last place he expected to run into Joyce, but he also hadn’t expected to see her at prom; maybe he didn’t know her as well as he thought. 

“Joyce?”

“Hey Hop,” she smiles, “You remember Josie, right?”

“Sure. Hey,” he says to Josie. 

Josie looks between Joyce and Hopper and mumbles something about getting something from the car. She scampers off in the direction of the parking lot, leaving them alone. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he says awkwardly. 

“Yeah well, surprise,” she sighs, flapping her arms at her sides. 

“You look nice. I like the red.”

“Thanks,” she replies. She looks down and kicks at the dirt. 

“You went to prom,” he states. 

“I did.”

“You looked nice. I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to tell you that night.”

“Yeah, well… you were  _ busy _ .”

“Joyce,” he sighs. He looks down at her, hoping to silently convey that he misses her but she refuses to meet his gaze. “I’m trying to compliment you.” 

He wishes he could go back to that night at the diner when he told her he was taking Chrissy to prom and what - take it back? Ask her what she thought about him taking Chrissy? Be more considerate now that he knew she may have feelings for him. 

He wants to do more than that. He wants to tell her that he’s sorry he let his relationship impact their friendship and that he misses her and wants things to go back to the way they were. But the words fall silent before they roll off his tongue and he says nothing. 

“Are you here alone?” she asks, changing the subject. 

“I am.”

He swears he sees a glimmer of hope flash across her face, but it could be a trick of the light and wishful thinking on his part. 

“I should go and find Josie but it was good to see you Hop,” she forces a smile and reaches to squeeze his arm as she brushes past him. The contact sends a jolt of electricity pulsing through him and he turns to watch her walk away. 

_ I’m sorry, he thinks to himself. I miss you. Us.  _

**.**

**.**

  
  


Hopper considers leaving the party but instead chooses to drown his sorrows in cheap beer while he chain smokes a pack of cigarettes near the alcove across from the parking lot. He watches Joyce mingle with some kids from their class, Josie always at her side and he shakes his head. A month ago, she never would have come to a party like this with him. She would have told him that she couldn’t risk sneaking out that night or that she had no interest in getting to know their classmates. Tonight, he watches as she laughs at a story told by Eli, the other student he knew she often ate lunch with and he wondered what changed. Maybe she didn’t need him as much as she used to and the strain he put on their friendship was all she needed to discover that she was better off without him. The thought shakes him to his core and he inhales sharply to numb the feeling. 

He loved Joyce’s smile; when her lips curled upwards and her dimples made an appearance. She so rarely smiled in a genuine way, but each time she did he was reminded of how wonderful her smile was and it made him want to do anything in his power to make her happy. Watching as she laughs, hands folded over her chest, one hip popped out, it dawns on him that she is breathtakingly beautiful. Some girls were pretty in an obvious way, but there was something so mysterious about Joyce and her porcelain skin and dark features that reminded him of the kind of art you would find in a museum; the type of unobvious beauty that people paid money to observe because something about it made them both envious and curious. 

He watches as she reaches into her pocket and fishes out a cigarette and sighs. He had an apology ready, but standing there, seeing her face, he completely froze and forgot what he wanted to say. He knows he needs to try again, she deserves that much, but he’s afraid that his words won’t be enough and that he may have lost one of his greatest friends. 

He’s fiddling with his lighter when someone comes up from behind him and leans on the tree next to him. He recognizes Karen Wheeler, a friend of Chrissy’s, and smiles at her when she greets him. 

“You looked awfully lonely over here,” she purrs, stepping towards him. She stops a few inches from his chest and smirks, “where’s Chrissy tonight?”

“She couldn’t make it,” he says. He has half the mind to step back but the tree he’s leaning against prevents him from moving and instead he shuffles his feet awkwardly. 

“What a shame,” Karen beams. She leans towards Hopper and lets her palm settle flat on his chest. He can smell the alcohol on her breath and lurches forward and out of her grasp. 

“Oh c’mon. I won’t tell Chrissy,” she slurs, attempting to move towards him again. 

“Get some water Karen,” he calls out while he storms off in the opposite direction. 

**.**

**.**

Hopper stumbles out of the forested area after one too many beers and towards the group, Joyce is standing with. When he manages to catch her eye, he shrugs and calls her away from the group. She slips away and approaches him.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” he asks before she has a chance to address him. She nods and follows him down towards the parking lot where they settle next to his car. 

He goes over the apology he rehearsed in the mirror before he left, but one look into her big brown eyes and his memory is wiped clean. Instead of addressing the obvious awkwardness, he asks her how she likes the party. 

“It’s alright,” she replies, sounding bored. 

She waits for him to speak again but when he doesn’t she impatiently taps her foot and rolls her eyes up at him. “Did you have something you wanted to talk to me about, or?”

Her voice is unamused and dripping with sarcasm, which only makes Hopper more nervous as he once again attempts to spit out his apology. 

“Look, Joyce....” He drags his hand through his hair and breathes out. He wishes he had another cigarette. “I’ve realized that… you know … lately I’ve been a really shitty friend and I-”

Joyce raises a palm to stop him from continuing and chuckles softly. “Save it, Hop,” she rolls her eyes. “You’ve made it pretty obvious that there are other things that are more important to you than our friendship. Spare me the pity speech and let’s both just move on with life.”

Joyce turns on her heel and rejoins her group of friends a few feet away. She doesn’t even bother to look back at Hopper, she knows her words had the desired effect on him. To really make her point clear, she places her hand on Lonnie Byer's arm and leans towards him while he speaks just to see if it will make Hopper jealous. She finally dares to glance back to him and sure enough, finds him glaring the way he was at prom.  _ Good _ , she thinks to herself,  _ stare.  _

Standing alone in front of his parked car, he pinches his eyes shut and runs hands over his face. She was so  _ fucking  _ stubborn and infuriating. Just downright frustrating. But why, instead of being furious with her, was he wondering what it would be like to give in to the urge that told him to grab her by the waist, place her on the hood of his car and shove his tongue down her throat. 

He shoves his keys into his pocket, taps the hood of his car and begins his long drunken walk back home. 

_ Then I think about summer, all the beautiful times _

_ I watched you laughin' from the passenger's side _


	4. Betty

**Chapter 4 - Betty**

_ But if I just showed up at your party _

_ Would you have me? _

_ Would you want me? _

_ Would you tell me to go fuck myself _

_ Or lead me to the garden? _

Staggering down the long country road that leads back to his neighbourhood, Hopper balls his fist and swings at the air. The world before him was blurry and he probably should have waited to sober up a bit before walking home, but he couldn’t bear to stand there and watch Joyce flirt with Lonnie and pretend she didn’t care that their friendship was falling apart. 

Watching her place her hands on someone, the gnawing feeling in his gut that he first felt at prom reappeared. It adds to his light-headedness and suddenly the world is rotating on a tilted axis and he doesn’t know up from down. He remembers the way he felt at prom, watching them together; he was ready to knock Lonnie out cold, and for what? Because Joyce was paying attention to him? Because she seemed to enjoy the way he held her close?

Since that night, he wondered what Lonnie whispered in her ear while they danced. He knows it’s ridiculous to concern himself, but he can’t help it. He was experiencing the feeling from prom all over again tonight, the pull towards Joyce and the desire to tell Lonnie to back off. But it wasn’t his place to defend Joyce and even under usual circumstances when he knew she considered him as one of her best friends, who was he to stand in the way of her happiness? Who was he to feel this way when he was the one who abandoned them for a relationship?

As he continues to walk on, he’s struck with a question that leaves him baffled. Who was he to Joyce - and who was Joyce to him?

Surely, she considered him a friend, but did she see him as something more? 

To him, she was  _ everything.  _ She was his best friend, his favourite smile and the smartest, most driven woman he knew. She was sunshine on a cloudy day even though she hid that side of her away from the rest of the world; he knew he was privileged to see beneath the facade she showed everyone else. He asks himself the question over and over as he walks, adding to his answer until he finds himself standing at the edge of his driveway. 

He asks himself one final time before heading inside, willing his subconscious drunk mind to give him the answers he’s so desperately seeking. 

Who was Joyce Horowitz to him?

_ Someone he couldn’t live without.  _

As he fumbles for his house key, he realizes that while he left the party alone, there was a chance Joyce would leave with Lonnie. The thought darkens his chipper mood and he feels sick. He makes it to the washroom and turns on the shower. Stepping out of his party clothes, he lets the cold water wash away the smell of cheap beer and cigarettes. He pounds his fist against the wall and hangs his head beneath the water, allowing the cold droplets to sober him up. He tries to force all thoughts of Joyce from his mind, but it’s useless. She’s there, laughing at something one of her friends said, her hand grazing Lonnie’s shoulder. She’s alone at the library, sitting in the sunlight that streams through the window next to her favourite table, reading. She fills every crevice of his mind and it isn’t until he steps out of the shower to dry himself off that he realizes he hadn’t thought about Chrissy once tonight. Instead, he’d been focused on Joyce and the anger that spiked throughout his body when he saw her with  _ him _ . 

Staring into the mirror, Hopper swallows hard. He wasn’t jealous, _ was he _ ?

.

.

Hopper had always considered himself to be a good person, but after the events of the past few weeks, he was beginning to wonder if that wasn’t true. The worst thing he’d ever done was what he did to Joyce. He replays their conversation over in his mind as he tries to fall asleep, wondering where he went wrong and if there was anything he could do to make things right. 

_ “Look Joyce....” He drags his hand through his hair and tries to begin his apology but his lungs are filling with water and he’s drowning. When he finally manages to force air into his lungs and find his voice and he stutters. “I’ve realized that… you know … lately I’ve been a really shitty friend and I-” _

_ His heart sinks when she raises her palm to stop him from continuing. Her faint laugh shatters him and leaves him feeling broken. “Save it, Hop,” she rolls her eyes. “You’ve made it pretty obvious that there are other things that are more important to you than our friendship. Spare me the pity speech and let’s both just move on with life.” _

_ Pity was the last thing he felt towards her. Rage because of her stubbornness, anger with himself for letting things get this far and desire. The last one catches him off guard, but it’s rooted in the way she stands up for herself- he finds it attractive.  _

_ “Joyce,” he calls after her. His voice carries and she stops immediately and turns to face him.  _

_ “What?!” she exclaims.  _

_ He doesn’t utter another word, instead, he takes two long strides and closes the distance between them. His hands land on her hips and his lips come crashing down on hers as he hoists her onto the hood of his car. Initially shocked, she freezes against him but the moment that her back makes contact with the metal of the car, she’s kissing him back. He’s faintly aware of the hollering behind them, but none if it matters. The way her heels drive his calves forward, his feet planted firmly on the ground between her legs, causes a low groan to roll off his tongue and he kisses her harder.  _

_ She’s the first to break the kiss, pulling back so that she can place a trail of kisses along his jawline. He closes his eyes and savours each touch, the delicate flutter of her lips against his skin setting it ablaze. When she reaches his ear, she tugs on it with a smirk and leans forward to whisper in his ear.  _

_ “Hop,” she breathes. “Take me home.” _

Hopper jumps up and realizes he’s in bed and it was all just a dream. One hell of a dream, he thinks to himself. He leans back against his pillow, processing when his eyes widen and it hits him.

_ Shit _ . He was jealous. 

**.**

**.**

“Whatcha’ doin?” Chrissy asks. She’s sprawled out her stomach on top of her pink comforter, her English textbook open in front of her. 

“Homework. Like you’re  _ supposed _ to be doing,” Hopper reminds her with a smile. 

After a slow start to the morning and some contemplation over an extra coffee to help with his raging hangover, he headed over to Chrissy’s to spend the afternoon studying. Only, he realized after arriving that when she invited him over to study, she didn’t actually have any intention of getting school work done. 

Chrissy’s house was located in one of the nicer neighbourhoods in Hawkins. A long street where all the trees were properly trimmed and there wasn’t a lawn with a blade of grass out of place. Her large white house, located on the street corner, stood proudly amongst the smaller ones along the road and always made Hopper feel small. Both of her parents were out for the day, meaning they had the house to themselves for the entire afternoon.

After insisting they work in her room; a room that was covered in more pink and lace than Hopper had ever seen, Chrissy quickly grows bored of her textbook and begins whining. 

“You invited me over to study,  _ remember?”  _ he smirks. 

It was no secret that Chrissy didn’t care for her grades, but unlike her, Hopper was hoping for a term of excellent grades so he could apply for football scholarships and get the hell out of this small town. While Chrissy was the one who filled his mind with ideas about leaving Hawkins, her parents were funding her escape plan and Hopper was going to have to work for his freedom. 

“I remember,” she replies, “I just think there are more  _ fun _ things we could be doing.” She reaches over to where he’s perched with his back against the headboard of her bed and goes for the buckle on his belt. 

“Some of us need to ace their science test on Monday if they want to get out of this hell hole,” he reminds her. 

“Aren’t you glad I convinced you that there’s so much more to life than what this place has to offer?” 

Was he? Before dating her, he never considered moving away from Hawkins. His friends and family were here, there were plenty of good paying jobs, what more could there be? Now that they were together, people (particularly adults) always fawned over how great it was going to be when he and Chrissy made it out of Hawkins and started a life for themselves because they were, as it was so often put,  _ perfect _ together. 

He tries to keep focused on the textbook page he’s reading, but his mind is racing. Nothing about this afternoon sat right with him. Chrissy hadn’t asked how the party was, even though he asked how her evening with her friends was, and he wondered if somehow she knew what he’d dreamt last night. 

“Earth to James,” she waves a hand in front of his face.

“What?”

“I said, aren't you glad I convinced you to get out of this god-awful town?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She slides closer to him and smirks up at him while reaching for and closing his textbook. He knows that every guy on his football team would be insanely jealous of the position he currently found himself in. Home alone with Chrissy Carpenter. Hell, he was sitting in bed with her while she tried to get his attention. He would be the envy of his classmates the moment he told this story, but something in him wishes he’d chosen to study at the library because he actually wants to do well on his test. 

“Why don’t you finish reading that later?” she smirks. She climbs into his lap and straddles him, her hands falling to his shoulders. 

“Then what would I do now?” he flirts. This was the part he was good at. The flirting, the teasing, what came after that. It was simple, mindless and a distraction from the chaotic storm going on in his mind. 

“I have some ideas,” she purrs, capturing his lips in a kiss. 

They tumble back onto the frilly pink covers and he doesn’t study another thing all afternoon. Before declaring he should head home for dinner, they lay side by side beneath the covers and his headache returns. He feels nothing. He’s laying next to her, their hands intertwined but he felt more in his dream about Joyce than he did just now with Chrissy. 

It was a good distraction, made him feel good for a few hours, but he admits inwardly that that’s all it was and that maybe he and Chrissy weren’t as perfect as everyone made them out to be. They’d slept together before today, and each time Hopper thought maybe he would feel something  _ more.  _ While it wasn’t bad, it wasn’t the way he knew it was supposed to be. 

He kisses Chrissy goodbye and packs up his book bag and promises to call her after dinner. On the way home, he blasts the music to distract him from any unnerving thoughts. He liked Chrissy. He really  _ really _ did.  _ But _ …. 

**.**

**.**

  
  


On Monday morning, Hopper and Benny decide to hit the gym and sneak in a workout before class. With the most important game of the season coming up, both were determined to impress potential scouts before their senior year. 

“Are you going tonight?” Benny asks between reps. 

“Going where?”

“Joyce’s party,” Benny states, confused. 

“Joyce is having a party?” Hopper stares blankly at Benny and sets his weights on the ground. “On a Monday?”

“You didn’t know? Shit, I thought I saw you two talking at the lake. You’re still not talking?”

“We’re talking,” Hopper mumbles. 

“You didn’t know about the party,” Benny points out. 

Tossing his arms up in frustration, Hopper groans and exhales a deep breath. “Joyce’s parents would never let her have a party, you must have misheard.”

‘I’m telling you man, she’s having a party. Her friend Josie told me at the diner yesterday. Anyways, I’m going to hit the showers. Let me know if you want to go tonight. I’d be down to check it out.” He pats Hopper on the shoulder and leaves him alone in the gym. 

In all the time he’d known Joyce, her parents never once went away. Not together. There were several occasions when her mother would go away for the weekend on business and Joyce’s father would fail to return home for a few days while she was gone, but they’d never announced they were going out of town together. 

Even if her parents had gone out of town in the past, Joyce hated most of the kids in their class she would never waste her energy on throwing a party. Whenever he convinced her to attend one with him, she always complained that she didn’t like anyone there and extended her empathy to the host who would, in her words, “be stuck cleaning up someone else’s mess.” 

And now she was going to be the one stuck cleaning up someone else’s mess. It didn’t make sense. Maybe that Josie girl wasn’t as good of an influence as he once thought. He does another set of push-ups, biceps quivering with each dip but he pushes through and hits his goal of twenty-five. Once again, he finds his shower thoughts lingering on Joyce and he decides that he needs to rid himself of this uneasy feeling and sort out his emotions. He needed to know once and for all if what he was feeling was rooted in jealousy, and the best way to do that was to confront Joyce. Plus, going to her party would give him another chance to try and apologize. If he was lucky, maybe this time he could say the right thing and save their friendship from demise. 

She wasn’t exactly happy with him the last time they spoke, and he wonders what she’ll think about him showing up at her party. He knows her well enough to know that she’ll think he’s there to keep an eye on things; he’d always been protective of her, especially when it came to her home life. Aside from that, would she still be angry with him or would she be willing to hear out his apology and make amends? 

He decides the worst thing that could happen is that she refuses to speak to him, though he doubts that will be the case. Joyce was never one to walk away from confrontation, if anything, she thrived in situations that involved it. She hadn’t  _ exactly  _ invited him, but Benny made it seem like it was an open invitation for the junior class and he was a member of that class. 

Joining Benny in their first-period class, he claims his seat and turns to his teammate, “Alright, I’m in. Let’s go to the party.”

He completely forgets he has plans with Chrissy but when he mentions the party at lunch she folds her arms over her chest and tells him she doesn’t want to go to a party with a bunch of “younger kids.” Hopper conveniently leaves out the fact that it’s Joyce’s party and doesn’t push after she tells him she doesn’t care if he goes without her. She excuses herself early and Hopper tells Benny he’ll pick him up at 8 o’clock for the party. He catches a glimpse of Joyce from across the cafeteria and offers her a weak smile. She pretends she doesn’t see him and turns her back to him. 

.

.

Pulling into Joyce’s driveway, Hopper is hit with an unexpected wave of nostalgia. He’s immediately content with his decision to come; he missed her. The boys hop out of the truck and grab the pack of beer provided by Hopper’s father. They round the side of the house and Benny follows Hopper down the path leading to a gate into the yard. Joyce’s house, though small, had a massive backyard, complete with a massive rose garden maintained by her mother in the summer months and an old wood deck. 

The sound of the partygoers drifts up over the fence before Hopper has a chance to push open the gate. He and Benny enter the yard on the far side of the lawn and wave to a few classmates that are scattered across the yard. He immediately spots Joyce, wearing her typical dark leather jacket, leaning against one of the deck railings in the middle of the party. Her dark hair is parted and hanging loosely over her shoulders and she has a drink in her hand. She looks up and they lock eyes for a moment before he pulls away due to the unbearable tension passed in their silent conversation. 

“Damn, some party,” Benny swoons. He claps Hoppers back and takes the lead, weaving through the crowd. He settles at a patio table covered in drinks and places the case of beer down. 

Hopper immediately reaches for one of the cans and swiftly downs it to steady his nerves. He has no reason to be nervous. This was Joyce. The same Joyce who he once made laugh so hard her drinks came squirting out of her nose. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that he’s here to right a wrong and sort out how he feels. 

He notices a blonde from their first-period class named Helen making eyes at Benny and he shrugs in her direction. 

“Someone has an admirer,” he teases. 

Benny pops open a can and smirks at Hopper, “I’ll be back later. If I don’t come back, even better,” he winks. Hopper shakes his head and watches as Benny makes his way over to Helen. He says something that makes her laugh and Hopper knows just by the way they're looking at each other that he won’t be driving Benny home anytime soon. 

He busies himself by talking with a few of his teammates and finds himself polishing off his third beer while talking to Allen, a student who was in his fifth-period class. Allen starts off by asking him about Chrissy, but Hopper only manages to mumble an excuse about her being busy and unable to make it to the party before he gets distracted watching Joyce with a few girls he doesn’t know. 

He vaguely registers Allen say something about how lucky he is to be dating someone like Chrissy, but the only sound that really resonates in his ears is the sound of her laugh from across the party. To be polite, Hopper asks Allen about his own girlfriend, a redhead named Abigail who was also in their fifth-period class. Allen’s words fall on dead ears as Hopper can’t help himself from watching, mesmerized by the sound of Joyce’s giggle. When she catches him staring, her smile fades into a scowl and he forces himself to look away. 

He’s pretending to be engaged in his conversation with Allen when she comes darting across the lawn and smacks his forearm, knocking him a step back and away from Allen. He stares at her with wide-eyes, amused, and lets her shove at him again. He hardly falters on the second swat to the chest, and he allows his amusement to show with a smirk. She only managed to move him the first time because he was caught off guard, but next to him she’s tiny and her gesture only manages to wound his ego. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she screams at him. He’s convinced that the ways she’s staring at him may cause him to burst into flames, he’d never seen her so upset. 

“What’s wrong with me?!” he exclaims, “You’re the one who came over here swinging.”

A few people nearby turn their heads to observe the screaming match and Joyce blushes. She steps closer to him and lowers her voice before asking her next question. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m at the party?” he plays dumb.

“You know what I mean!” she raises her voice again. 

“Just trying to enjoy the party,” he repeats. He raises his palms to show her he has no intention of fighting with her. 

“Alone?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I was talking to Allen before you rudely interrupted us.”

They both turn to where Allen was standing and discover he’s long gone. 

“Where’s your  _ girlfriend _ tonight?” she says. He cringes at the way she says the word girlfriend. 

“Not here.” He doesn’t offer any further explanation. “Look, Joyce. I need to talk to you.” 

“Because our last conversation went so well,” she laughs. There’s a strange look in her eyes that he can’t place and he presses on. 

“Joyce, I care about you and I’m worried. Throwing parties because your parents are away, talking to all these  _ people _ when we both know you can’t stand most of them, ignoring me…”

“Ignoring you?  _ I’m  _ ignoring  _ you?! _ That’s rich, Hop.”

“Is this because of Chrissy? Is that why you won’t listen to my apology?”

“Please, I don’t give a shit about Chrissy.”

“Then would you care to fill me in on what the hell is going on here? Because one second everything is fine and the next you can hardly look at me. I know I screwed up by bailing on you but I’ve been trying to tell you that I’m sorry.”

Joyce paces away from him, folds her arms and then paces back. “Do you have some type of alarm that goes off in your head when I’m happy?” 

“What?”

“You show up here, at  _ MY _ party and insist that you care about me when really all you want to do is apologize so that you'll feel better about yourself. You know what, go fuck yourself!!”

She moves to turn and storm away but Hopper catches her wrist before she can and he stares down at her with pleading eyes. 

He tugs on her arm gently, and when she gives into his pull, he leads them away from the party and towards the dead rose garden along the side of the house. Reluctantly, she follows him, though she digs her heels in and gives him a hard time. 

“Hopper what the hell!” she protests, looking back in the direction of the party. “You can’t just drag me off and…”

He has her pinned to the wall on the side of the house before she can finish speaking. His body envelopes hers, his hands frame her face, planted firmly on the brick behind her ears and he leans down to eliminate their height difference and forcefully place his lips against hers. She stills when he first presses her up against the wall, but he notices she’s kissing him back almost instantly. He grinds into her, pressing her flush against the wall while he angles his head to deepen their kiss. She tastes like stale cigarettes and cherry chapstick and he’s certain he’s never felt so light-headed. The moment he brings his hand to cup her cheek, she pulls back and instead of experiencing the sensation brought on by the taste of her lips, he’s met with an open-palmed slap. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” she shoves him away from her and walks away from the wall. 

“Joyce, I-”

“You what?! Saw me having a good time and decided it would be fun to ruin it?”

“No, that’s not…”

“Not it? Hmm, let me see, got bored of Chrissy and thought why not drag me into the mess that is your love life?” 

He stuffs his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “I thought that maybe you wanted me to…”

“Why the  _ hell _ would I want that?” 

“Don’t you…” the words fail him once again and he impatiently drags his hand through his hair. 

“Don’t  _ you _ dare finish that sentence! You didn’t do that because you thought  _ I  _ wanted you too, and I think we both know that. Now,” she huffs, squaring up to him, “why did you do that?”

He wants to tell her, to say something,  _ anything _ , but he can’t tell her how he feels because he isn’t sure himself. All he knows was that the feel of her lips against his has left him breathless in a way he didn’t know was possible and that he wants to kiss her again. Instead of saying something, he awkwardly blushes and looks away. 

“Can’t say it? Figures,” she scoffs. “Get the hell off my property.” 

She storms back into the yard, leaving Hopper alone in the garden of dead roses. 

.

.

  
  
  


Unable to locate Benny, Hopper leaves the party almost immediately after Joyce abandons him in the garden. He’s not sure what came over him back there. Something about the way she was standing up to him when she told him to go fuck himself, he found it attractive. 

The realization rattles him but no more than the revelation that arose after kissing her. Why did he kiss her? The short answer, he wanted to. More than anything, he wanted to know what it felt like to taste her lips. The more complicated answer was because he selfishly wanted to know if he was jealous watching her with Lonnie. He was. _ Incredibly fucking jealous.  _

He didn’t regret kissing her, but he did regret the fallout it caused. Standing there, looking into her big brown eyes, he was certain Benny was right. The way Joyce asked about Chrissy told him she was jealous, and that meant what Benny said about her being interested in him had to be true, so he kissed her.

Don’t lie to yourself, he shakes his head. You kissing her had nothing to do with what you thought she wanted. It was selfish. You did it because you wanted to. You would do it again because you liked it. 

He went to her party so that he could sort out how he felt and all he managed to do was confuse himself further and make Joyce angrier with him. Kissing Joyce was better than he dreamed it would be. He felt that kiss in his toes. If Joyce hadn't stopped them, there’s no telling how far things would have gone. There was definitely something physical there. He runs his thumb over his lower lip, the ghost of her kiss haunting him. Definitely something there. 

But, did he want more? Joyce was attractive, he wasn’t blind and it was now clear that he was sexually attracted to her, but was there an emotional connection? - a romantic one? 

He’s halfway through his walk back home (he decided he’d had one too many beers to drive) when a car horn blares from behind him. He turns back and spots Chrissy leaning out of the driver-side window of her dad’s Oldsmobile. 

“James, get in,” she smirks. Stopping the car, she waits until he climbs into the passenger seat before she continues down the road to his house. They don’t say much on the drive, Hopper too preoccupied with his own thoughts and Chrissy wondering why the hell he was walking home, but she wasn’t daring enough to ask. He doesn’t ask where she’s coming from, or comment on the irony of her timing, he just sits and lets the silence consume him. 

“Do you want to come in?” he mumbles when they arrive. 

“I’ve got to get my dad's car back. Tomorrow,” she smiles. She leans over the center console and places a kiss on his cheek. 

He waves and walks up to the front door. Once she’s out of sight, he lets out a deep breath. He had to laugh, what were the odds that Chrissy would be driving down Joyce’s street at the exact time he decides to leave it? It had to be a cruel trick of fate, someone punishing him for kissing Joyce when he was with Chrissy. 

Kissing Joyce.  _ Jesus.  _ He hardly has time to overanalyze the awkward encounter with Chrissy in the car because his mind is still back in the rose garden. 

He feels more confused than when he left for the party. He rehearsed his stupid apology speech for hours, went over what would happen when she saw him at the party, but none of the pre-planned scenarios in his head panned out. 

He heads to bed a mess of questions. What if he hadn’t shown up at Joyce’s party? What if he told her he missed having her in his life- because he did. If tonight taught him anything, it was that Joyce was one of the best things in his life. He would give anything to rewind and fix things. They would have gone to the party together and made fun of everyone who got drunk and did something stupid. They would ditch the crowd and pass cigarettes back and forth and he would steal a kiss when he drove her home. Except, that last step didn’t fit with his proposed rewind and he knows it’s too late to go back. 

Before he drifts off to sleep, he concludes that he doesn't know anything anymore. 

  
  
  


_ I don't know anything _

_ But I know I miss you _


	5. Cardigan

**Chapter 5 - Cardigan**

_ A friend to all is a friend to none _

_ Chase two girls, lose the one _

  
  


“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she screams at him. 

She was furious. From the moment she spotted him walk into her yard, without Chrissy, she’d been looking for an excuse to take her anger out on him. Now that she had found one, she wasn’t going to let him walk away without explaining himself. 

* * *

The only reason she let Josie convince her to have this  _ damn _ party was so that she could forget about her latest argument with Hopper. Her parents never went away, not together, so when they told Joyce they’d be out of town for the funeral of a distant relative, she was ecstatic to have the house to herself for the entire weekend. 

When she bragged about having the place to herself to Josie, Josie suggested she have a party for their classmates. Initially, Joyce was unsure. If her parents ended up returning early, things wouldn’t end well for her. Josie won her over by promising it would be fun and a perfect distraction from her fallout with Hopper. After they returned home from the party at the lake, she had explained what happened with Hopper to her friend, who lent a sympathetic ear and told her that Hopper didn’t deserve her. 

It was designed to be the perfect distraction. Plus, she figured it might get Hopper’s attention. She realized the irony of wanting both things, distracting herself while hoping her rash decision would catch his attention, but she wanted him to hear about the party and think she’d moved past their argument. She wanted him to believe that she was living her best life without him, even if the truth was that she was miserable without him around. What she didn’t expect was for him to show up at the party,  _ solo _ .

The moment she spotted him, she could feel the tension building in her body. She told herself not to let it bother her because the less she showed him it bothered her, the more bothered she knew he would be. Hopper had always been funny like that; he would be more inclined to pay attention to her if she paid no attention to him. 

But he was staring at her. She was certain his eyes had been glued to her all evening and it made her angrier. He didn’t get to look at her  _ that _ way, not when the entire purpose of this party was to distract herself from the pain he caused her. He didn’t get to show up  _ alone _ and stare at her like  _ that _ . She was going to make sure he knew it wasn’t alright with her. 

Joyce considers lecturing him sooner than she does but gets distracted by Josie introducing her to a few of her friends. She notices him laughing across the party and her stomach flutters. Goosebumps scatter across her freckled arms and she blushes, embarrassed that the sound of his laugh could impact her in such a way.

She reminds herself he chose Chrissy over her. She replays their last conversation and tries to recall the pitying look in his eye when he weakly attempted to apologize for leaving her in the lurch, but none of it is of any use. She’s falling down the rabbit hole of what-if scenarios when Josie asks if she needs another drink and she nods. 

Why did he come here? It was possible it was because he wasn’t one to pass up a party, but him showing up alone yet again struck her as odd and she couldn’t help but wonder, was there a reason he came here alone tonight? 

**.**

**.**

Not long after Hopper shows up at the party, Joyce finds herself alone with Josie near the table holding the drinks.

“He came?!” Josie asks, eyes growing wide. 

“I’m trying not to focus on that. There’s a  _ party  _ going on,” Joyce replies. 

“That’s the spirit! You know who I saw come in a little while ago?”

“Who?”

“ _ Lonnie _ ,” Josie winks.

“Josie, I told you I’m not super interested in Lonnie.”

“But he’s super interested in you.”

“He’s nice. I just don’t think there’s a  _ spark _ there.”

“You’ve never even kissed him, what if there is?”

“You’re a horrible influence,” Joyce laughs.

“I’m just saying if you never try you’ll never know. Besides,” she smirks, “the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

“Oh  _ god _ ,” Joyce rolls her eyes. 

Josie waves and flits off across the lawn towards a group of her friends and Joyce decides to grab another drink before joining her. 

She fetches a can of beer and pops it open when she spots Benny, one of Hopper’s best friends, flirting with a girl named Helen. Ducking to avoid making eye contact, Joyce turns her back to the pair. She’s prepared to rejoin her friends when she overhears Benny say something interesting.

Curious, she leans in so she can listen to the conversation, careful to not draw attention to herself from where she is standing on the opposite side of the table. 

“Maybe we should introduce my friend to yours,” Joyce hears Helen tell Benny.

“He’s seeing someone.”

“Then why is he here alone?”

“Can you keep a secret?” 

“Try me.”

“It’s  _ Joyce’s  _ party,” Benny explains.

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” Helen asks.

“As far as I know, Hopper didn’t even ask Chrissy to come with him.”

“I still don’t get it,” the girl admits.

“He would kill me if he knew I was saying this, because he would never admit it, but it’s pretty obvious that he has feelings for Joyce.”

“You think he’s interested in Joyce?!” Helen says loud enough that Joyce would have heard without trying to listen in. 

“Shh,” Benny hushes her. 

“But he’s still dating Chrissy?”

“Well, I didn’t say he was going to date Joyce. You’ve seen the two of them, they're usually thick as thieves.”

“Then why do you think he’s interested in Joyce?”

“Isn’t it obvious? He always has been.”

Joyce pales and forces herself to walk away, not wanting to hear anymore. Benny had known Hopper almost as long as she had, and she trusted that he knew him in ways she didn’t (it was a guy bond type thing), which meant she trusted what he had to say about Hopper.

Feeling nauseous and unsteady, she stumbles into the bathroom on the first floor of the house and splashes her face with cold water. 

She and Hopper had been best friends for years. For years she wondered if there could be something more between them, but she always drew the same conclusion, they were meant to be friends. Hopper never showed any signs that he was interested in something more, and while she decided years ago that she might want something more, she wasn’t willing to risk their friendship to pursue a possibility. 

_ But _ what if she was wrong? What if after all this time, he wanted the same thing she did? It’s irrational, but a small part of her hopes that she’s right about why he showed up here alone. A larger part of her is angry with him for continuing to ruin her evening, even without having spoken a word to her. She loathed him for putting a damper this evening; her night of fun that was designed to allow her to forget about him. She wishes he would be upfront about the way he felt so that she could follow his lead.

The more she thinks about it, the more upset she gets. Hopper was supposed to be the one person who soothed her anxiety, not ramped it up. 

She downs her beer, dries off her face and returns to her party on a mission to rip into Hopper for raining on her party parade. Joyce is intercepted by a group of girls she’d recently met and joins in on their conversation. She forces herself to laugh at the jokes made, and while she really likes the ladies, her mind is preoccupied and she fiddles with the hem of her shirt, anxiously waiting to excuse herself and find Hopper.

He’s talking to Allen, a student in their class on the far side of the lawn and she wastes no time in approaching him. She storms up to him and shoves him away from Allen and yells at him. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” 

“What’s wrong with me?! You’re the one who came over here swinging.”

She notices a few people turn to observe the argument and steps closer to him so she can whisper her next question. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” she demands to know.

“I’m at the party?” 

“You know what I mean!” she exclaims, allowing the frustration to slip into her voice.

“Just trying to enjoy the party.”

“Alone?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I was talking to Allen before you rudely interrupted us.”

Joyce turns to look at Allen and uses that as an excuse to put some distance between them. 

“Where’s your  _ girlfriend _ tonight?” she says. Her voice catches when she uses the term girlfriend to describe Chrissy. It causes her to cringe. 

“Not here.” He says. Looking down at her, he pauses before speaking again, “look, Joyce. I need to talk to you.” 

“Because our last conversation went so well,” she laughs to herself. She’d gone over their last conversation countless times, each time only fuelling her anger and desire to lash out at him. 

“Joyce, I care about you and I’m worried. Throwing parties because your parents are away, talking to all these  _ people _ when we both know you can’t stand most of them, ignoring me…”

“Ignoring you?  _ I’m  _ ignoring  _ you?! _ That’s rich, Hop.” She feels her cheeks flush and her arms angrily flop at her sides. 

“Is this because of Chrissy? Is that why you won’t listen to my apology?”

“Please, I don’t give a shit about Chrissy,” Joyce says in her most convincing tone. At least, she hopes it sounds convincing. 

“Then would you care to fill me in on what the hell is going on here? Because one second everything is fine and the next you can hardly look at me. I know I screwed up by bailing on you but I’ve been trying to tell you that I’m sorry.”

She paces away from him, folds her arms and then paces back. Did he really think she was upset about that? Was he so clueless that he didn’t realize why she was actually upset? She always thought that Hopper knew her better than anyone, now she was wondering if he knew her at all. 

“Do you have some type of alarm that goes off in your head when I’m happy?” 

It’s a rhetorical question, but something she’s been wondering since he stepped foot in her yard that evening. 

“What?”

“You show up here, at  _ MY _ party and insist that you care about me when really all you want to do is apologize so that you'll feel better about yourself. You know what, go fuck yourself!!”

She moves to turn and storm away but he catches her wrist before she can and her eyes meet his pleading ones. He tugs on her arm gently, and she gives into his pull, hoping that maybe he’s going to tell her the real reason he showed up at her party without Chrissy. She follows as he leads them away from the party and towards the dead rose garden along the side of the house, digging in her heels to show him she was still in a feisty mood and wasn’t planning on giving in without giving him an earful. 

“Hopper what the hell!” she protests, looking back in the direction of the party. “You can’t just drag me off and…”

She doesn’t get a chance to finish her thought because she’s being pressed against the wall and her mind is consumed by the taste of him. She stills at first, the force at which he pins her to the wall shocking her. It takes a moment for her mind to register what’s happening. Hopper is kissing her. And before she can consciously decide what she wants to do, she’s moving her lips against his. 

His lips are on hers hot and fast while he grinds down into her hips. His hands are framing her face, large-open palms planted on the brick of the house. She almost gasps when the bulge in his jeans brushes against her inner thigh but prevents the sound from escaping her throat by leaning into the kiss. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss and brings his hand down to caress her cheek. The moment she feels his thumb brush against her cheek, she realizes what’s happening - what they’re doing, and she panics. 

She pulls back and slaps him across the face with her left hand. He reaches for his swollen cheek and Joyce shoves him away from her with both of her hands. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” 

“Joyce, I-”

She waits for him to continue, but Hopper stands there staring at her with his mouth hung open. 

“You what?!” She says on his behalf, “saw me having a good time and decided it would be fun to ruin it?”

“No, that’s not…”

“Not it? Hmm, let me see, got bored of Chrissy and thought why not drag me into the mess that is your love life?” 

She doesn’t mean to sound so cruel, but she’s livid with him for dragging her into his mess. Based on what she just learned from Benny, Hopper was dealing with some internal debate that involved him having feelings for both her and Chrissy, and she didn’t care to be caught in a love triangle. Especially not when the third member was one of the most popular seniors in school. 

If he had something to say to her, he could tell her with his words, rather than press his tongue into her mouth and hope that conveyed his message. 

“I thought that maybe you wanted me to…”

“Why the  _ hell _ would I want that?” she spits. 

She did.  _ But not like this.  _

“Don’t you…” 

“Don’t  _ you _ dare finish that sentence! You didn’t do that because you thought  _ I  _ wanted you to, and I think we both know that.” She needs him to say it, to tell her that he felt it too; the connection between them. Their kiss proved that what she thought might be there between them, was, and now Joyce was holding out hope that he would confess the real reason he showed up at the party alone. For the briefest instant, she lets herself believe that the reason is that he wanted to be alone with her.

She pulls her shoulders back, trying to make herself taller while she squares up to him and asks “why did you do that?”

Hopper stares across the yard at her and sighs. She can see the resignation in his eyes and she knows he either isn’t ready to admit what she wants him to say, or he doesn’t feel the way she hoped he might. 

“Can’t say it? Figures,” she scoffs. “Get the hell off my property.” 

She storms off in the direction of the party, looking to lose herself in a sea of unfamiliar faces and a few cans of beer.

**.**

**.**

Joyce works her way through the crowd and towards the table of drinks with a purpose. Determined not to let herself cry, she pops open a can of beer and immediately downs half of the contents. She wasn’t surprised that he couldn’t tell her how he felt. Hopper had never been extremely in touch with his feelings, and she knew that he was infatuated with Chrissy. Even if he  _ did _ have feelings for her, he had Chrissy and no reason to choose her over the perfect blonde. Sure, they had a history but she wasn’t tall and beautiful like the cheerleader was and she knows that she’ll never measure up. 

Telling herself to forget about it, Joyce looks around for someone to talk to. She spots Josie standing with a few of their peers across the yard and waves. Before going over to them, she finishes her drink and crinkles the can in her hand. She tries to forget about everything that happened in the garden, but the taste of him is still heavy on her lips and she’s certain she smells like him. 

The worst part of this entire situation was that while Hopper was popular with the girls in their class, he’d never had a serious girlfriend before Chrissy. Girls would catch his attention for a few weeks at a time, but then they would be phased out and Joyce never had to think about how she would feel if he started spending more time with one of them instead of with her. She never believed he would find someone to get serious within high school; he was always going on about how the girls at their school were too immature. 

She smiles to herself, thinking about the time they lay in the field behind her house looking at the stars when he told her he hated all girls and that she was the exception. 

* * *

  
  


_ Laying in the field behind Joyce’s house, Hopper points up at one of the constellations and smiles.  _

_ “That’s Ursa Major.” _

_ Joyce rolls onto her side and meets his gaze with a pointed look. “You’re making that up.” She rolls her eyes.  _

_ “I am not! That’s what it’s called.” _

_ “You have no idea what stars make up the constellations,” she snorts.  _

_ “Come here, I’ll show you,” he says. She sits up and slides closer to him, stopping when she’s within his reach, she lays on her back and stares up at the star-filled sky. It was a cool summer evening, the only sounds aside from their voices the chirping of crickets in the nearby weeds. Joyce loved the summer. Everything about it made her feel a steading calmness and she yearned for the orange-hued skies and the late-night adventures that accompanied it.  _

_ “It starts here,” Hopper says, raising his hand and pointing towards a star on the left of Joyce. When he notices she’s struggling to identify the one he’s referring to, he takes her hand and guides it until she’s pointing at the glowing orb. “There.” _

_ “Then, here,” he explains, guiding her hand to the next star in the constellation.  _

_ It wasn’t uncommon for the pair to spend time in the field behind Joyce’s house. It was where they spent most of their childhood summers, and growing up saw a shift from playing tag to talking and lounging around, but the location remained a favourite for both of them. It was silent and secluded and neither of them felt any pressure to be anyone besides themselves when spending time amongst the grass.  _

_ “How did you know what that constellation was?” she asks after he releases her hand and they go back to staring up at the sky in silence.  _

_ “I looked it up once to impress Laura on a date.” _

_ “A waste of energy,” Joyce giggles. Laura was a girl that Hopper was crazy about at the beginning of the summer. He spent weeks trying to convince her to go out with him only to have her break things off with him after the first date and he was devastated.  _

_ “Girls suck,” he remarks.  _

_ “Hey!” she smacks him playfully. “I’m a girl.” _

_ “You don’t count.” _

_ “Why don’t I count?” she whines. _

_ “Because you’re my favourite girl.” _

_ Unsure of how to respond to his compliment, Joyce grins and stares up at the night sky. They lay side-by-side in silence, hands resting inches apart, enjoying the company of one another for the rest of the evening.  _

* * *

Joyce can’t help but laugh at the irony that plagued her life. Hopper was with Chrissy and  _ now _ was when she decided she had feelings for him.  _ Now _ was when he decided to finally make a move and kiss her. 

Jim Hopper  _ kissed  _ her; her mind is trapped in the memory. Her hand comes up and runs along the edge of her lower lip and she shutters. 

There was a time when Joyce could confidently say that she  _ knew _ Hopper. He was the guy that wore a flannel and Levi’s every day because he didn’t care to be “fashionable.” He never bothered to comb his hair and he secretly had a huge heart. But  he had become a different person when he began dating Chrissy. The boy she knew would never have done something as rash as kissing her, especially not while he was dating someone else. In touch with his feelings or not, she was beginning to notice that he was different around their peers. 

With their classmates at school, he was the popular jock who got girls and good grades. With her, he was an insecure kid who had no clue what he wanted to do with his life after graduation. He was a kind ear and a passionate storyteller; he was always the first person to comfort her. He drew stars around her scars and reminded her that she was stronger than she knew and she always found solace in his arms.

He wasn’t that person tonight. He hadn’t been in weeks. He chose the life that came with dating Chrissy and she was left lusting after a version of him that ceased to exist. 

Part of her wonders if he’ll ever be ready to admit that there may be something  _ more _ between them. She knew he’d miss her once the thrill of being with Chrissy expired, but would he ever admit that he missed her in a way that extended beyond their decade-long friendship? Or, was Hopper destined to always be with someone like Chrissy; the type of girl she would never be. 

An absolute mess of emotions, Joyce rejoins Josie and a few of their classmates and does her best to distract herself from her inner demons. Hopper wasn’t going to ruin this evening for her. He could be as reckless as he wanted, he wasn’t going to drag her into his mess. The kiss didn’t change anything. If anything, she was angrier than she was before she approached him tonight. He couldn’t just choose to want her when it was convenient for him. She was no one's second choice. 

Lonnie Byers joins their circle not long after Joyce does. Standing next to her, he compliments her on her outfit and tells her the party is incredible. She lets him flirt with her because it’s easy, he’s nice enough and part of her wants Hopper to see when she places her hand on Lonnie’s shoulder and laughs. As wrong as it is, she wants him to hurt the way she does. 

Lonnie asks if she wants to join him and talk away from the group. She nods and follows, catching the unsubtle wink Josie tosses in their direction as they head off to be alone. They talk about school and make pleasant small talk about the people they know at the party. It’s not exactly awkward, but the conversation is a tad forced and Joyce finds herself bored. 

He steps closer to her and though she knows what’s happening, she doesn’t react. When he kisses her, she feels nothing. Instead, she’s back in the garden pressed between Hopper’s muscular body and the wall, unable to catch her breath. But, Hopper isn’t here, he’s probably gone home to Chrissy and she’s Lonnie’s first choice, so she numbs her pain by kissing him back. 

_ You drew stars around my scars _

_ But now I'm bleedin' _

  
  
  
  
  



	6. The Last Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mention of alcohol abuse and abusive parents

**Chapter 6** - **The Last Time**

_ All roads, they lead me here _

_ I imagine you are home _

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**_Hop,_ **

**_We need to talk._ **

**_Meet me on the field after the game tonight._ **

**_Joyce_ **

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The week following the party, Joyce finds herself in a strange place. She hadn’t spoken to Hopper, she was being actively pursued by Lonnie Byers and she found herself waving to a few of her peers in the hallway, something she never would have done a few weeks prior. 

Joyce never bothered with getting to know her classmates. She had Josie and Eli to enjoy her lunch with and she had Hopper. Now that she and Hopper were no longer speaking, she assumed she would just muddle through on her own. Instead, she was surprised to discover herself making friends. She isn’t sure she enjoys the concept, but she figures it’s worth pursuing until she decides she’d rather be on her own. For now, she didn’t mind having to say hello to a few of her classmates. 

Lonnie Byers was another story. He was clearly interested in her and while Josie had been right and there was a certain  _ spark _ between them, it just wasn’t right. She was interested in her best friend. Even if those feelings went unreciprocated, she wasn’t looking for something serious with anyone else. This was one of those problems, she decided, that could also be put off until it absolutely needed to be dealt with. In the meantime, she would keep him around for some fun. 

She knows she should probably cut him loose, yet something about the way Hopper’s jaw clenched when he saw them together prevented her from telling Lonnie she wasn’t interested. It was wrong, but she couldn’t help herself from wanting Hopper to feel the way she did when she saw him with Chrissy. 

Ever since her party, Hopper had been skipping out on science class, which initially annoys her but later she decides that it’s probably for the best. She has no clue what she plans on saying to him the next time she sees him. As more time passes, she begins to regret slapping him. 

Their kiss left her feeling confused and upset, but more than anything, being  _ with _ Hopper reminded her of how much she missed spending time with him. After much deliberation, she decides that she can’t stand losing Hopper and that she is willing to forget about everything that happened between them if it meant they could be friends again. 

She valued her friendship far more than her anger, which is why on Friday, she decides to leave a note in his locker asking to meet him after the game. 

And now, here she is, standing on the bleachers in her acid wash jeans and leather jacket, cheering for the Hawkins High football team. She feels out of place in her dark-coloured clothes. It seems the students around her are all dressed in some type of green and orange spirit wear and she wonders if it was some kind of unwritten rule that you wore school colours to the game. She hopes not, green was not a colour suited for many people. 

Though she and Hopper had been friends for all of high school, she’d never once attended one of his games. Sometimes, after the game ended, he would come over and tell her about his favourite parts, though he never pushed her to come and she had no interest in standing on the bleachers with a crowd of unfamiliar faces. 

Even tonight, she debated not showing up. She wasn’t sure he’d received her letter, or if he would bother meeting her and her father had just about lost his mind when she told him that she was going out. 

.

.

_ After checking herself over in the mirror and fixing up her red lipstick, Joyce grabs her bookbag and heads for the door.  _

_ “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” her father barks from where he’s seated in a recliner opposite the stairs. He’s facing the television, and not her, but she can tell by the heaviness in his voice that he’s been drinking.  _

_ “Out,” she tells him, offering no details.  _

_ “Out where? You have a curfew.” _

_ “I’ll be back before curfew,” she lies.  _

_ He stands, slowly, places his bowl of chips on the overcrowded side table, sending an assortment of newspapers scattering to the floor and he approaches her.  _

_ “Where?” he demands. “Where did you get that? No doubt your mother taught you how to do that,” he says, pointing to her red lips, “No daughter of mine is going out looking like a whore.” _

_ She considers telling him that it’s only lipstick but instead opts to wipe it off on the back of her hand. It leaves her knuckles stained red and she wishes she’d packed the tube of lipstick in her bag so that she could reapply it once she left. She did steal it from her mother, who was conveniently out of town for work. Joyce doubted she would even know it was missing.  _

_ “Where ya off to anyways?” her father demands to know. He stays leaning on the back of the recliner as Joyce edges closer and closer to the door, desperate to get going and escape his nonsensical line of questioning.  _

_ “There’s a football game at the school,” she explains.  _

_ “You don’t even like sports,” he huffs.  _

_ “I’m meeting some friends.” _

_ “I doubt anyone would miss you if you stayed home and vacuumed.” _

_ “I’ll do it tomorrow. I promise,” Joyce tells him. Before he has time to make another remark, she slips out the front door and slams it behind her. She knows he won’t follow after her, he’s too lazy. Instead, he’ll mutter to himself about how disrespectful she is and he’ll plop himself back in the chair that she’ll find him asleep in when she returns home.  _

_ “They’d miss me,” she mumbles to herself as she begins her walk to the school. She wasn’t exactly meeting friends, but if she was, they’d miss her. She was certain they would. She liked to think that she was the type of person that would be missed. Some days, she believed that no one would know if she vanished. Other days, she was determined to believe that even she would be missed.  _

_ She wipes the red from her hand onto her bag and curses at herself for not packing the lipstick.  _

.

.

Watching the crowd around her, Joyce feels a sense of calm and belonging. Everyone was chanting and waving, excitedly jumping up and down as the cheerleaders lining the track wave their pom-poms in the air. Joyce spots Chrissy and her heart sinks. She’s dressed in her tiny pleated green skirt and matching crop top, with her curly blonde hair pinned back in a green hair tie and she has sparkles on her eyelids that make Joyce cringe. Chrissy catches Joyce’s eye and smirks before joining in on the ridiculously over peppy song being sung by her peers. 

No wonder Hopper was interested in her. Her uniform was practically non-existent. 

Joyce leans back against the wooden plank making up the bleachers and pulls out a cigarette. Mr. Samson had scolded her for smoking in the stands when she first arrived, but he was long gone and she needed a cigarette if she was going to make it through this game. Besides, she and Hopper sometimes ditched fifth and sixth period to share cigarettes beneath the bleachers all the time, she didn’t see what was so different about smoking  _ on _ them. 

After relaxing a bit, Joyce watches the commotion unfold around her as the team takes the field. She recognizes Hopper by his jersey number,  _ 11 _ , and follows him as he crosses the field in a slow jog until reaching his teammates on the sidelines. Crossing one ankle over the other, she stays seated while everyone around her erupts in cheers and prays that football games are short. Mr. Samson returns to scold her for smoking twice during the first quarter, but each time she rolls her eyes and pretends that she can’t hear him over the roar of the crowd. 

  
  


**.**

**.**

In the locker room before the game, Hopper places his shoulder pads over his head and fastens the strap around his side. 

The team was buzzing around excitedly, ready to take the field and face their opponents in the final game of the season before the playoffs began. Boys chant and holler while getting ready, but Hopper is silent. He’s trapped in his own head, not as focused on the pending game as he should be and it’s all Joyce’s fault. He hadn’t spoken to her since she cursed at him and told him to leave her party. He’d spent countless hours replaying the events of that night, and all of the ways it could have gone and after much deliberation concluded that what happened was possibly the worst thing that could have happened. 

He wanted Joyce to know what she meant to him, but he wasn’t sure how to tell her. And then there was Chrissy and the fact that he was still dating her. Two things became clear after kissing Joyce. First, that he was a fool for ever believing he could cut her out of his life, and second, that he wanted to kiss her again. Only, he was certain she hated him for kissing her and he wasn’t sure she wanted to speak to him again, let alone kiss him again. He’d been avoiding her since that night, unsure of what he would say to her. He’d even gone as far as to skip class because he wanted to sort things out in his mind before he made an even bigger mess of things. And now she’d gone and left him a note saying they needed to talk and he had no clue what she meant by it; only that she was probably at the game tonight. She’d never once come to one of his games and his stomach lurches with the need to impress her. 

He’s angry, but also confused and now both Joyce and Chrissy were going to be staring at him while he played; the fact that Joyce watching him excited him more than Chrissy in her tight little uniform rattled him to his core. 

He decides to channel his anger and confusion into the game and excitedly claps his hands before proceeding to get ready. 

“Why do you look so cheerful?” Hopper asks Benny, who is getting ready at the locker next to him. 

“I’m meeting Helen after the game,” Benny smirks. 

“Things are going well I see.” 

“Honestly, they are. Thank god for Joyce’s party,” Benny laughs. “Oh, wait! I never asked where you ran off to the other night at the party.”

“I told you, I had too much to drink and Chrissy picked me up and drove me home,” Hopper says. 

“I mean before that.”

“Oh,” he pales, “I had to talk to Joyce.”

“And yet, you two still aren’t talking,” Benny remarks sarcastically, “Am I missing something here?” 

“We’re talking,” Hopper grumbles. They weren’t. He hadn’t spoken to her since that night and he was now ditching science class so that he wouldn’t have to face her. Why was Benny so concerned about his relationship with Joyce anyways, he thinks to himself. Well, based on her note, maybe they’d be talking after tonight. 

“Did something happen between the two of you?” Benny asks. 

“Why would something happen between us?!” he snaps. 

“Woah, take it easy man. I was just asking if you’re fighting about something besides Chrissy.”

“We aren’t fighting about Chrissy.”

“Then why aren’t you talking?”

“It’s complicated.”

“It really can’t be  _ that _ complicated,” Benny sighs. “Look, I’m worried about you man. You and Joyce have been inseparable since the day I met you and I haven’t seen you together in weeks.”

“It’s  _ fine _ , Benny. Maybe we’re just growing apart.”

“We both know you don’t actually believe that bullshit. Talk to her.”

“Why are you suddenly so invested?”

“It’s my job as one of your best friends to make sure you don’t do stupid shit that you’ll regret one day. Chrissy might be hot, but Joyce, she’s something special.”

“Benny, how many times have I told you, it’s not like _ that _ with us.”

“Isn’t it? You care about her, no?”

“Well, of course I do.”

“Don’t smack me when I say this, because I’m planning on needing this arm for the game,” Benny smirks and jokingly steps away from Hopper to defend himself, “but I’ve seen the way you look at Joyce, and it isn’t how you look at Chrissy. Hell, it isn’t even how my parents look at each other. There’s something there.”

“Benny-”

“Alright,” he tosses his hands up, “no more from me. I’ll never bring it up again, I just had to tell you what I see. Now, let’s get ready to go and kick some ass!” 

Hopper continues to get ready and does his best to ignore what Benny has just said, but the thought is paralyzing. He knew how kissing Joyce made him feel but were his feelings really so obvious to everyone else? And if that was the case, why weren’t they obvious to Joyce? 

**.**

**.**

In the third quarter, the Tigers led by 10 and Joyce is surprised to find herself clapping along with her peers, invested in the game. Hopper scored the team's second touchdown, bringing the crowd to their feet, including a shocked and excited Joyce. She wasn’t going to make a habit out of coming to games, but she had to admit, this wasn’t so bad. 

Between the third and fourth quarter, the cheerleaders take the field to perform and Chrissy once again catches Joyce’s eye. The cheerleader laughs and flips her ponytail over her shoulder, while Joyce pretends to be distracted by something on her shoe. 

The cheerleaders line up across center field and begin their performance. Joyce tunes out while they chant about  _ spirit _ but notices Chrissy flick her skirt up and wink at Hopper, who is watching from the sidelines. She expects him to be drooling over the performance being put on for him and instead finds him staring up at her in the stands. She swallows hard and forces herself not to wave, instead offering him a shy smile. He doesn’t look away after she notices him, choosing to stare at her instead of the show being put on at center field. When the whistle blows indicating the start of the fourth quarter, he snaps his helmet back on and takes the field. Chrissy remains oblivious to the fact that her boyfriend hadn’t watched her show and flashes a satisfied smirk in Joyce’s direction when she returns to the far side of the field. 

Joyce tries not to read into what’s just happened but Hopper being all over the field and the crowd chanting his name as he scores yet another touchdown forces her to focus on him. 

Someone holds up a sign that reads, “ _ #11 on the field, #1 in our hearts,”  _ and Joyce just laughs. She had a front-row seat to the Jim Hopper show tonight, there was no escaping it. 

Once the game comes to an end and the teams graciously shake hands, Joyce lingers on the bleachers until the field is clear and she can effortlessly climbs down onto the track. She leaps over the chain-link fence and leans against the post nearest to the men's locker room while she waits for Hopper. Luckily, the cheerleaders had also vacated the premises and it looked like most of her classmates were headed off to party’s or the diner to celebrate the team's big win, so she has the field all to herself. 

She rolls her head back and stares at the scoreboard with a smile. Maybe football wasn’t the worst sport. After tonight, she understood why Hopper loved it so much. As she waits for him, her nerves begin to get the best of her and she wonders if this is the best idea. What if he didn’t want to hear what she had to say? Or worse, what if he hadn’t got the note, or did get it and decided to stand her up? Before she begins to spiral out of control, she takes out another cigarette and twirls it between her fingers. 

Joyce notices the locker room door creep open and spots Hopper peek his head out and look around. When he spots her, a smile breaks out across his lips and he makes his way over to where she’s been waiting for him. Beneath the floodlights illuminating the field, his eyes look a neon shade of blue and she’s tempted to fix the messy curls left in his sandy hair by his helmet. She resists the urge and instead stuffs the unlit cigarette in her pocket. He’s still wearing his grass-stained jersey and shoulder pads, which makes her feel smaller than she usually does when settles in front of her. 

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey.”

“I got your note,” he smiles. “I’ve missed you.”

“Look,” she begins, awkwardly holding her hands together behind her back, “I’m sorry that I slapped you.”

“Joyce-”

“No, please let me finish,” she begs. “I’m sorry I did that. I miss you too and I would really like to just forget about everything that’s happened and be friends again.”

Hopper purses his lips and folds his arms over his chest, “Huh?” 

He was certain that she had feelings for him, but now she was telling him that she wanted to forget about everything that happened and while he was on board with fixing their friendship, he didn’t want to forget everything. Things changed when he kissed her. He knows she felt it too. She  _ must _ have. 

“Joyce,” he begins. He was going to get through the speech he rehearsed this time around, he’d screwed up enough, this was his chance to right his wrongs. “I don’t want to forget about it.”

“W-what?” she blinks. 

“I don’t want to forget about it,” he states more definitively. 

“You don’t want to be friends again?” she asks meekly. 

“That’s not what I said. Of course, I want to be friends again. Hell, I’ve missed talking to you so much these past few weeks Joy. And I’d love for us to forget about our stupid feud and move on, but… it’s just… I don’t want to forget about what happened at the party.”

Caught off guard by his own admission, he runs his hand through his hair and looks down. It was true, he wanted to mend their friendship, but he couldn’t forget about the way being with her made him feel. 

“You - why?” she stammers. 

“Look, I hate to ask this but Benny thinks that maybe you were upset with me because you’re jealous of Chrissy. Are you?”

“Why does it matter?” 

“ _ It matters _ .”

“If I am, it doesn’t mean anything,” she admits. 

“It matters to me,” he says. Surprised they’d even made it this far into the conversation without her getting upset with him for accusing her of being jealous, he takes a deep breath. 

“Why? Why can’t we just forget about all of this and go back to the way things were?”

“Because,” he pauses and steps towards her. He reaches down and softly lifts her chin so that she’s forced to look at him. “Joyce,  _ that kiss _ .”

“It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing, and we both know it.”

“You felt something?” she asks in a whisper.

He nods. 

Overwhelmed, Joyce tries to pace away a few steps but Hopper is quick to place a hand on her waist and instead pulls her half a step closer to him. “Didn’t you?” he breathes. 

“Hop-” she squirms out of his grasp and he drops his hand as she steps back. Tears flood the corners of her eyes and she shakes her head.

“Tell me that I’m wrong and we’ll forget it all happened. But, we don’t have to. I know you felt it too.” His words come out as a plea and she pinches her eyes closed to try and not give in to the desire to launch herself into his arms and tell him that of course she felt it. She needs to stay focused. He was with Chrissy and he wasn’t thinking clearly. He didn’t want her.  _ Not really.  _ He may be fascinated with the idea of her, but the lust that clouded his mind would fade away and their friendship would be left in ruins. She wanted him to be saying this because he wanted her.  _ All of her.  _ She needed to know that he wanted this for the same reasons she did; that she wasn’t just a passing phase. 

“If I tell you that I did, how would that change things between us? You’re with Chrissy. Nothing good will come of me agreeing with you. It’ll ruin everything.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“If I tell you that Benny was right, or that I felt something when you kissed me, it won’t be enough. I want more.”

Her voice breaks and she gasps. Hearing herself admit what she wanted aloud for the first time is overwhelming yet calming. “I need  _ more _ ,” she sighs. It’s a vague statement, she knows, but she doesn’t completely know what she means and is hoping his interpretation will tell her. 

“What do you mean,  _ more _ ?” he asks. He’s staring at her with such intensity that she feels the world around them has vanished. 

“There you are!” A third voice interrupts their moment and Joyce knows that their conversation will remain unfinished while he’s still dating someone else. 

Chrissy flits over to them, the pleats of her green skirt bouncing as she glides effortlessly across the track and launches herself into Hopper’s arms the way Joyce wishes she could. Joyce steps back and away from Hopper, giving his girlfriend room to toss her arms around his neck and kiss him in a far from PG manner. 

An uncomfortable look settles over Hopper’s face as he helps Chrissy find her footing back on the ground. His eyes remain trained on Joyce, even while Chrissy attempts to deepen their kiss, and he awkwardly clears his throat with a cough. 

Chrissy steps to his side and hooks her hand through his arm and smirks at Joyce. 

“Chrissy, you remember Joyce, right?” Hopper says awkwardly. 

“Of course! I just  _ love _ your jacket,” Chrissy responds with the fakest complement Joyce has ever heard. 

“Nice to see you,” Joyce whispers. She stuffs her hands in the front pockets of her jeans and shrugs. “Anyways, I should get going. Um, good game Hop,” she says, smiling half-heartedly at him. 

“Do you want a ride? We’re going to the diner,” Hopper calls after her. 

He can feel Chrissy glaring at him for inviting Joyce, but he isn’t done with their conversation and he desperately wants her to agree to the ride. 

“I’ve got one, but thanks,” she waves. Joyce turns and makes her way to the parking lot, racking her brain with what to do next. She was hoping that she and Hopper would have resolved things and he could have given her a ride home, but with their conversation ending where it did, she wasn’t keen on climbing into a car with him and Chrissy and she really didn’t want to walk home. 

That’s when she spots him, leaning against a beat-up old car with a cigarette dangling between his teeth, and the idea strikes her. 

“Lonnie,” she greets him as she approaches. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you at a football game.”

“Yeah well, something to do. I could say the same about you.”

“It’s not my usual scene,” she admits. 

“I was going to head to the diner, you want a ride Horowitz?” he offers. He puts out his cigarette by aggressively stomping his heel into the dirt. 

“I’d love one,” she beams. She steals a glance over her shoulder and notices Hopper is watching while he and Chrissy walk towards his own car. Desperate to show him she’s unphased by Chrissy, she leans over to Lonnie and presses a kiss to his lips. 

“What was that for?” he smirks when she pulls back and rounds the car so that she can climb into the passenger's seat. 

“Consider it a thanks for the ride,” she winks. 

She makes eye contact with Hopper as she and Lonnie back out of the parking lot and she notices his fists are clenched at his sides. She knew it was wrong and childish, but she can’t help herself. She put her heart on the line tonight, it was Hopper’s turn to make a move and prove that he wanted her as more than just a best friend. 

_ This is the last time you tell me I've got it wrong _

_ This is the last time I say it's been you all along _


	7. White Horse

**Chapter 7 - White Horse**

  
  


_ Stupid girl, I should’ve known _

_ That I’m not a princess, this ain’t a fairytale _

_ I’m not the one you’ll sweep off her feet _

When Hopper and Chrissy arrive at the diner, the post-game celebration is already in full swing. Every booth in the small neon-lit establishment is packed with students from Hawkins High and a few of them rise to pat Hopper on the back as he and Chrissy work their way to a table full of his teammates in the far corner. 

Going to the diner after the game was a long-standing tradition that Hopper adored. There was always such a positive vibe in the atmosphere and everyone, from the jocks to the nerds participated in the festivities. He settles into a plush leather booth between Benny and Chrissy and orders himself a Coke and a plate of fries. 

“Good game man!” a senior student smiles at Hopper from across the table. 

“Thanks.”

“That last catch, phew, I don’t know how you do it.”

“It’s because he has me to make him look good,” Benny brags. 

“Always so humble,” Hopper laughs in Benny’s direction. 

The waitress returns and passes Hopper his drink and that’s when he sees her, cuddled up in the corner booth with Lonnie. She has her body angled towards the other man and she's laughing. Genuinely laughing. It bothers him. He wants to be the one making her laugh. 

He’s drawn back into the conversation at his table when Chrissy links her arm through his and lays her palm over his hand. She leans into his shoulder and flirtily flits her eyelashes at him. Smiling at her, he tunes back into what’s being said, but every once and a while he finds himself looking over at the corner table. 

He zones out when Benny starts rambling about his favourite plays of the game, instead opting to focus on Joyce. She was drinking a chocolate milkshake, her favourite, and twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. She wasn’t wearing the red lipstick he’d seen her wear recently, and it reminded him of how naturally beautiful she really was. He thinks that maybe, before everything fell apart, he should have told her how breathtaking she was. She deserved to know. 

He watches with envy as her arm brushes against Lonnie’s and the hand located beneath Chrissy’s clenches instinctually. 

He vaguely registers that Chrissy is telling a story, but he has no idea what she’s talking about. It was likely about something he’d done. He’d discovered that Chrissy loved to tell their friends about the quirky things he did when they were alone; he didn’t love that she shared intimate details of their personal life and recognized that she did it as a means of boasting about their relationship status. He’d never said anything to her about it, but he found it unnecessary and cringe-worthy. 

Chrissy turns and notices that Hopper is staring across the room and tightens her grip on his arm. 

“ _ James, _ ” she hisses, “are you even listening to me?”

“Of course I’m listening,” he lies. 

As Chrissy continues her story, Hopper grows restless and pulls his hand from beneath hers. He stretches his arms up over his head and excuses himself to use the restroom. Alone, he makes his way down the aisle, past Joyce’s table and to the restroom. He can feel Chrissy glaring at him as he passes Joyce, but he doesn’t linger nor does he make eye contact. In the restroom, he groans and splashes himself in the face with cold water. When the water does nothing to aid his anxiety, he decides he needs a cigarette. 

Hopper goes back to the table and retrieves his jacket while telling Chrissy he would be back after his smoke. She nods and continues on with her conversation with Karen Wheeler, who had joined the group and claimed Hopper's seat while he was gone. 

On his way out he watches as his peers laugh and celebrate and he feels incredibly disconnected. Everyone at their table was hollering and engaged in exciting conversations but all Hopper wanted to do was head home and crawl into bed. He should be in the mood to celebrate. He should be thrilled to have Chrissy here with him, bragging about what an incredible boyfriend he was, yet, he was pouting because his best friend was here with someone else. 

Pushing through the door to the diner, Hopper whips out a cigarette and lights it, allowing the immediate rush on his first inhalation to numb the way he feels. 

**.**

**.**

  
  


Typical. It was absolutely typical of Hopper to order a plate of fries while everyone else ordered only soda. Not that she was watching him, she just happened to notice while she was looking around to see if she recognized any of her classmates who were at the diner to celebrate the football team's win. Only, that was a lie because she didn’t know any of these people and she’d been keeping an eye on Hopper since he and Chrissy strolled in. 

She and Lonnie were sitting in the far corner of the establishment giving her a perfect vantage point and view of Hopper and his pals. Her intention was to have Lonnie drop her off at home but she felt unsettled after her conversation with Hopper and wasn’t ready to head home just yet. So, when Lonnie asked if she wanted to join him, she accepted his offer and here they were, tucked away in a small two-person booth watching as their classmates celebrated. She’s trying to focus on the story she’s being told, something about the latest car Lonnie and his father were working on restoring; she’d recently learned that he spent nearly every weekend with his father, working on restoring cars, but her attention is split between the words he’s saying and the way Chrissy has her arm linked through Hoppers. 

More than anything, she wants to give Lonnie her undivided attention. He was nice enough to offer her a ride and she felt like she owed him; seeing as she was stringing him along (though he wasn’t aware of that fact). But she’s preoccupied with the words left unsaid on the field and she needs to know what Hopper’s next move will be. She felt as though she’d made it clear that the ball was in his court. The note was the first step to mending their friendship and rather than accept her offer to forget and move forward, he just  _ had _ to go and complicate things, therefore, it was on him to  _ uncomplicate _ them. 

Lucky for Joyce, the waitress drops off the milkshakes they ordered just as Lonnie asks her a question that she only hears the second half off. She thanks the waitress and immediately takes a large gulp of her chocolate shake. 

“Chocolate, huh?” Lonnie remarks. He takes a sip of his own vanilla milkshake and smiles. 

“The best kind,” she states. 

“Okay, don’t find this weird, but I’ve never tried a chocolate milkshake.”

“What?! You  _ have _ to try,” she insists, sliding her milkshake towards him. 

He takes a sip and pauses before his lips settle into a smile and he pushes the glass back towards her. “Alright. I see what all the hype is about.”

“I can’t believe you never had a chocolate milkshake,” she scoffs. She plays around with the straw in her drink and grins, caught up in the memory of one of the first times she discovered that chocolate was the best kind of milkshake. 

.

.

_ “Why on earth did you get the strawberry?” Hopper asks.  _

_ He leans back against the booth and scolds Joyce for her milkshake selection. It was freshman year and he and Joyce had decided to check out the diner that all of the senior students went to before it got too busy with the evening crowd. The pair were sitting across from each other in a booth lining the front window. Joyce was pleasantly surprised with the homey feeling in the diner and commented several times on how much she loved the neon lights on the edges of the window.  _

_ “I don’t know, it looked good.” _

_ “You always get the chocolate, it’s an unwritten rule of ordering a milkshake.” _

_ “You can just share yours with me,” she suggests. With a smirk, she leans over the table and clasps his straw between her lips before he has the chance to slide the glass out of her reach.  _

_ “Hey!” he protests. “Get your own!”  _

_ “Will it really kill you to share? I’ll share mine and we can have one of each,” Joyce beams.  _

_ “Excuse me,” Hopper calls out to the waitress. “Could we get two more straws?” _

_ “More straws?” Joyce whispers.  _

_ “If I’m sharing my milkshake with you, we’re getting two straws so that you can’t hog the entire thing.” _

_ “I’m not going to hog the entire thing!” _

_ “Oh really, because it’s already on your side of the table,” he raises an eyebrow and looks at where the two milkshakes are positioned in front of her.  _

_ “You put that there!” she giggles as she pushes it back to the center.  _

_ “Why would I put  _ my _ milkshake there?” he teases her.  _

_ “To bother me.” _

_ “I would never,” he laughs.  _

_ “Oh please Hop. Your favourite pastime is bothering me.” _

_ “You secretly love it,” he winks.  _

_ The waitress returns and hands Hopper two straws then smiles between him and Joyce. “It’s so nice to see a young couple so in love,” the older lady remarks before walking away.  _

_ “Oh we’re not…” Joyce attempts to correct her, but it’s no use, she’s already back at the counter.  _

_ An awkward silence falls between them and Joyce fiddles with her thumbs while she waits for Hopper to add the new straws to the drinks.  _

_ “Can you believe that she thought-” he begins with a forced chuckle.  _

_ “Gosh no. How crazy would that be?” _

_ “Totally crazy,” he sighs. They each sip a milkshake and eventually the awkwardness falls away and Hopper is once again teasing Joyce about hogging the chocolate milkshake.  _

_. _

_. _

Lonnie resumes telling his story and Joyce continues to pretend to listen, but she isn’t. She notices Chrissy place her hand over Hopper’s and feels queasy. A strange realization overcomes her and she suddenly panics. The fate of their relationship was in Hopper’s hands but she would never be like Chrissy and she worries that maybe she’s allowed herself to become disillusioned with what could be. 

It was stupid of her to assume that Hopper would ever choose what he didn’t have with her over what he did have with Chrissy. They were  _ perfect.  _ The cheerleader and the jock.  _ Everyone _ said so. Perhaps she was stupid and naive for believing that she was the type of girl that Hopper would want to sweep off her feet. They may live in a small town, but there were plenty of girls that were better suited for Hopper than she was and he  _ had  _ to see that. She never should have let herself realize she had feelings for him. That was her first mistake. 

Before then, she was fine to live in her oblivious bubble. Obliviousness, though not ideal, meant that she wasn’t at risk of getting hurt. Now that she was standing here, in the crosshairs of what could have been and what could be, she would give anything to go back and remove the possibility of getting hurt. 

It was too late now. Too much had happened and she knew it was foolish to think that they could forget everything and move past it but if that meant they could save some of their friendship, she was still willing to give it a shot. 

Lonnie is still talking though all Joyce hears is white noise. She excuses herself and heads to the ladies' room where she splashes her face with cold water. When the water does nothing to calm her, she reaches for the pack of cigarettes in her pocket and returns to the table where she informs Lonnie that she’ll be back in a few moments. He nods and tells her he’ll be at the table waiting. 

She doesn’t notice that Hopper is no longer sitting at his own table. 

  
  


**_._ **

**_._ **

With Hopper gone, Chrissy begins talking to Karen Wheeler, a fellow senior member of the cheerleading squad. The girls are giggling about a mishap that one of the younger members of the squad had during the on-field performance when Benny asks Chrissy where Hopper ran off to. 

“He went out for a smoke,” she informs him. “Or maybe he went to go make eyes at a certain brunette where I can’t see him doing it.”

Her second statement has some bite but Benny ignores the maliciousness in her tone and nods. 

“Their friendship is strange, isn’t it?” Karen remarks obliviously.

“I don’t understand why he wastes his time with her,” Chrissy huffs. 

Benny, who’s listening in on them, just rolls his eyes and sits silently. He knew exactly why Hopper “wasted” so much time with Joyce and he had an odd feeling it was only a matter of time before his friend and Joyce discovered that reason for themselves. 

“Wait,” a younger boy Chrissy doesn’t recognize interjects, “are you talking about the guy that just left here?”

The guy was in a few of Benny’s classes and was a member of the junior class, but Chrissy can’t be bothered to ask his name. He seemed like a total stoner and if she was being honest, she was already bored of this conversation. 

“Yeah, why?” Karen answers.

“Oh man, I feel so bad for that guy's girlfriend. I saw him totally making out with the girl that threw that party last week.”

“ _ I’m  _ his girlfriend.” Chrissy hisses. 

“Oh  _ shit _ . My bad.”

Chrissy looks across the table at Benny, who seems amused by what he’s just been told and she scowls. 

“You must be thinking of someone else,” she fake smiles at the kid. 

Chrissy doesn’t give the kid a chance to refute her remark and instead whips around to look at where Joyce was previously sitting with some punk rock-looking loner from school when she and Hopper came into the diner. She is irritated to find the male sitting at their booth alone. Joyce, and  _ her _ boyfriend nowhere to be seen. 

Angry, Chrissy gets up and smooths down the edge of her skirt. She gestures for Karen to follow her and marches over to the table where Lonnie Byers is sitting alone. 

“Can I help you?” Lonnie asks as the two cheerleaders approach his table. 

“Hi,” Chrissy smiles down at him. “I’m Chrissy, this is Karen.” 

Following Chrissy’s lead, Karen waves at Lonnie and half-heartedly twirls one of her curls through her fingers. 

“Lonnie,” he says skeptically. 

“That’s a nice shirt,” Chrissy says, referring to his beaten-up band tee. 

“Thanks?” 

“How’s your night going?” Chrissy pries.

“Fine. Is there a reason you came over here?” 

“I just wanted to see how things were going with you and Joyce.”

“I didn’t realize you two even knew each other,” Lonnie says. 

“Hop introduced us.”

“ _ Right _ ,” Lonnie says dryly. 

“So your date is going well?” 

“Who said it was a date?”

“Isn’t it?”

“What do you want Chrissy?”

“It’s too bad really, that Joyce will never  _ actually _ date you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“I just think it’s a little pathetic. And too bad really.”

“What’s pathetic?”

“How obsessed she is with Hopper. It’s getting ridiculous, she practically follows him around and stalks him.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? She has a total stalker-like crush on him. It’s actually a bit sad. He only hangs out with her because he feels bad for her. Anyways, I just thought you should know.”

Giggling, she links her arm through Karen’s and the two girls head back to their table. Lonnie states after Chrissy and Karen in a daze. He thinks over what he’s been told and glances towards the diner door, where he catches sight of Hopper following Joyce to the side of the building. 

He knew Joyce and Hopper had a complicated relationship, but maybe it was far more complicated than he initially thought. 

  
  
  


**_._ **

**_._ **

Joyce exits the diner in a hurry, swinging the glass door open and stepping out into the cool evening air with a large sigh. She’s too preoccupied with fishing her pack of smokes out of her bag to notice that Hopper is leaning up against the wall next to the door, watching her. 

He stares down at her, one foot anchoring him to the wall, cigarette loosely dangling between his chapped lips. 

Upon spotting him, Joyce quickly swivels on her heel and marches away from the front of the diner, rounding the building and choosing instead to stand in the alley between the building and the parking lot. 

“Joyce,” he calls after her. She can hear the crunch of the gravel beneath his boots and knows that he’s following her but she doesn’t slow down. 

“Joyce! Please stop,” he yells. He sounds defeated and it tugs on something within her and forces her to stop stalking away. Standing rooted in her spot in the alley, she whips around to face him, messy hair falling across her face as she spins around. “What?!” she snaps. 

“Can we finish our conversation from earlier?” he asks sheepishly. 

“I think it’s best we don’t.” 

“Look, I’m sorry that we were interrupted. But don’t shut me out.”

“Don’t be sorry. After all, she’s your  _ girlfriend _ , she had every right to interrupt the conversation we were having.”

“Joyce,” he sighs. “Can we not talk about her right now? This is about you and I.”

Hopper takes a step towards her but Joyce stubbornly holds her ground and squares her shoulders to show that she isn’t affected by their close proximity. It’s an act, she’s insanely affected, but she refuses to show him what he does to her. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she shrugs, doing her best to act neutral. 

“There’s plenty to talk about.”

Another step. She’s standing between him and the wall of the diner, and though they’re outside it’s suddenly hard to breathe. 

  
  


“You want to talk? Alright, fine. Why? Why can’t we just forget about everything that’s happened and move on?” she demands to know. Her eyes scan his but she finds no sign that he’s going to shy away from answering her. 

“Why?” he growls. He leans towards her and forces her back to collide with the brick while he leans down and allows his nose to hover near hers. Their breath mingles and they both gasp before he speaks in a hushed, tortured tone, “Because it’s taking everything in me not to kiss you again right now.”

He leans in and allows his lips to hover near her ear, sending a shiver rippling through her body. 

“Joyce, I want-”

“You think you want,” she corrects his unfinished statement. Finding her strength, she snaps out of her Hopper-infused haze and decides she can’t lose herself to lust when they needed to talk this out. 

“What?” he blinks. He leans away from her and stares down at her with confusion. 

“You  _ think  _ you want me Hopper. You like the idea because you can’t have me. But you don’t actually want me. Not like  _ that _ .” 

“I-” he stutters, “I’ll prove that that’s not true.”

“How?” she whispers. She knows what she’s asking of him is impossible but her guard is up and she needs him to help her tear it down. 

“What if Chrissy and I were to break up? Would that fix things between us? Then will you believe me when I tell you that I care about you and that I don’t want to forget about what happened in the garden.” 

“Leaving her won’t fix anything!” she yells in his face. With a sad sigh, she looks up at him with tear-filled eyes and continues in a lower, calmer voice, “I don’t even know who you are anymore Hop. You bail on our plans, you care about what other people think…”

“I’m still me Joyce. Can’t you see how I feel about you?”

She needs him to say it, to break down the wall she’d so delicately built by telling her she mattered to him, but he stands, inches from her face with his mouth hung open, unable to tell her what she needs to hear. 

He wants to, desperately. But something prevents him from telling her his feelings for her are far from platonic. He’s afraid. Afraid she won’t feel the same way, though he’s almost certain she does. Afraid that things will change between them and worst of all, he’s scared to screw up and lose her. 

“I know that you know. You know me, Joyce. You know  _ me.”  _ His eyes are pleading, but ever the stubborn one, Joyce pushes against his chest and frees herself from the man-made compound between him and the wall, and she begins her walk home, leaving a stunned and confused Hopper alone with his unsaid feelings. 

_ This is a big world, that was a small town _

_ There in my rear-view mirror disappearing now _

_ Now it's too late for you and your white horse _

_ To catch me now _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, if you get the chance please leave a review!


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